WHEN I WAS A BOY 



IN 




ELGIUM 




ROBERT JONCKHEERE 




Class -JlliMfll 

J* 
: 



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Copyright N°_ 



7 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



WHEN I WAS A BOY IN 
BELGIUM 



CHILDREN OF OTHER LANDS BOOKS 

Six Volumes With Characteristic Illustrations 
and Cover Designs i2mo Cloth 

There are many books about the children of other 
countries, but no other group like this, with each volume 
written by one who has lived the foreign child life de- 
scribed, and learned from subsequent experience in this 
country how to tell it in a way attractive to American 
children — and in fact to Americans of any age. 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN CHINA 
By Yan Phou Lee Price net, $ .60 ; postpaid, $ .68 

WHEN I WAS A GIRL IN ITALY 

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WHEN I WAS A BOY IN JAPAN 
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WHEN I WAS A BOY IN GREECE 

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WHEN I WAS A BOY IN PALESTINE 
By Mousa J. Kaleel Price net, $ .60 ; postpaid, $ .68 

WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 
By Robert Jonckheere Price net, $ .75 ; postpaid, $ .85 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
BOSTON 




l (^iU%^^^- 



WHEN I WAS A BOY 
IN BELGIUM 



BY 



ROBERT JONCKHEERE 



ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 




BOSTON 
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 



Published, March, 1915 V^ 



Copyright, 191 5, 
By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 



All Rights Reserved 



When I Was a Boy in Belgium 



NORWOOD PRESS 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass., U. S. A. 

APR -5 1915 

©CI. A 3 9 7 40 3 






o 



To 

Mr. and Mrs. Augustus A. Hemenway 

in grateful acknowledgment of many 
acts of kindness shown to 
Belgian refugees 



PUBLISHERS' PREFACE 

The author of this book became known 
to us through the columns of a newspa- 
per, which published an interview with 
Mr. Jonckheere soon after his arrival in 
this country. 

The graphic account he had given of 
Belgian refugees flocking out of Antwerp 
led us to believe that he was one who 
could well and profitably tell our boys 
and girls how those of their own age live 
in a land that has become the center of 
so great interest. 

Mr. Jonckheere proved to be a man of 
unusual culture, especially well-read, and 
an excellent linguist. After a single in- 
terview in which we explained what our 
young people — and older ones, too, for 
that matter — would be interested in know- 
ing, he readily wrote " When I Was a Boy 

7 



8 PUBLISHERS' PREFACE 

in Belgium " in English, and so well that 
his own manuscript was speedily given to 
the printer. 

Mr. Jonckheere has settled down cou- 
rageously to start life anew in this coun- 
try. All will be glad to know that he 
now has a reunited family. The cheerful 
way in which he describes Belgian child- 
life by giving his own true story shows 
convincingly how amiable are the thrifty 
people of that fair and unfortunate land, 
Belgium. 

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company. 
Boston, March, 1915. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 

I. A Little Boy in Belgium . 

II. The Boys' School 

III. Ten O'Clock Playtime 

IV. "Jet" .... 
V. " Kalinker," Cherry-Stones, 

and Disks 

VI. Work at School 

VII. Holidays in Belgium 

VIII. Uncle Doren and His Mill 

IX. Grandmother . 

X. Stories Grandmother Told Me 

XL To Boarding-School at Blank- 

ENBERGHE 

XII. A Trip through Belgium . 

XIII. My Father's Story of Waterloo 

XIV. A New Start in Antwerp 
XV. Some Business Experiences 

XVI. Happy Years 
XVII. The Outbreak of the War 
XVIII. Our March from Contich to 
Antwerp 
XIX. Our Flight from Antwerp 
XX. We Come to the United States 
9 



PAGE 
13 
15 
17 

21 

26 

33 

39 

47 
61 

66 

74 

85 

93 

101 

no 

118 

124 

133 

142 
148 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Robert Jonckheere 



A Canal in Belgium .... 

A Belgian Windmill .... 

Ancient Watch-Tower and Dam at Bruges 

A Dog-Cart in Belgium .... 

Albert, King of the Belgians . 

Rear of Fortifications at Namur, showing 
Canal ...... 



Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

36- 



iS* 



Where the Battle of Waterloo was Fought 

Antwerp Cathedral .... 

A Line of Refugees .... 

Wounded Belgian Soldier telling his Chil- 
dren of the Thrilling Fight with the 
Germans at Liege .... 

A Soldier and his Homeless Family 

Refugees Leaving Antwerp 



48 
48 

54 

78 ^ 

86 S 
100 \f 

1081/ 
128 ^ 

134 v 
140^ 
146 ' 



11 



WHEN I WAS A BOY 
IN BELGIUM 

CHAPTER I 

A LITTLE BOY IN BELGIUM 

When my mother used to talk to me 
about my birth, she never forgot to men- 
tion how cold it was in Belgium during 
the early part of 1879. I was born in 
the month of March, that year. 

I was the first baby in the house, and 
plenty of work attends such an event. 
There were pancakes and chocolate milk 
to be prepared for all the relatives and 
friends who would come to see me in the 
morning, to tell my mother what a fine 
baby I was, and how much I looked like 
her or my father. Before departing, each 

13 



14 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

guest would eat pancakes and drink choco- 
late milk in my honor. 

Well, there I was, a little boy, whom 
everybody found really a big boy. They 
all said to my mother that she must be 
glad to have a boy, and not a little girl 
for her first child. 

I had only to grow up quickly now so 
that I could soon go to school. When I 
was two and a half years old, I was sent, 
according to usual custom, to the " nuns' 
school." I do not remember much of 
that time. There I learned the alphabet 
and also many prayers, and became able 
to count up to one hundred. Playing 
and praying filled the best part of the 
day. I went to that school until I was 
five years old, — the age of entrance to the 
boys' school. Until they are five years 
old, little boys and girls go to the same 
school, but after that they go to separate 
schools. 



CHAPTER II 



THE BOYS' SCHOOL 



It is a big happening in the life of a 
boy, that first day in the boys' school, 
with a schoolmaster at the head of the 
class and with real writing-desks for the 
children ! 

I attended the boys' school until I was 
eleven years old, when I had to receive 
my first communion. More than ninety- 
nine per cent, of the people living in 
Belgium are Roman Catholics. There 
are a few Protestants and members of 
other religions in the big cities ; but in 
the smaller towns only Catholics live, 
and so it was in the little town where I 
was born, that is, Roulers in West 
Flanders. 

During the summer months, school 

lasted from eight o'clock till half-past 

15 



16 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

eleven in the morning, and from half- 
past one till four o'clock in the afternoon. 
During the winter months it starts half 
an hour later. We wore leather shoes 
only in summer ; in the winter we wore 
wooden shoes, called hloefen or blokken, 
which were much warmer. We carried 
our books for evening study in book-bags 
strapped to our backs. In that bag each 
of us also had his bottle of coffee or milk, 
bread and butter, and perhaps an apple 
or an orange to eat at ten o'clock, when 
playtime came. 



CHAPTER III 

TEN O'CLOCK PLAYTIME 

That ten o'clock playtime, that was 
the happiest part of the day ! Let me 
tell you about some of our games. The 
most popular game with the little ones 
was "catch-me-wood." One of the chil- 
dren had to catch another ; just touch 
him, and the one touched would now 
have to try to catch another boy. But, 
and here the game became more interest- 
ing, the intended " catch " might flee to 
a tree or to a door or to a little piece of 
wood on the ground and take hold of it ; 
and as long as he touched wood, he could 
not be caught. One day we played 
" catch-me-wood," another day it would 
be " catch-me-iron," or " catch-me-stone," 

or any other " catch-me " we might have 

17 



18 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

in mind ; but " catch-me-wood " was the 
most popular. 

One of these "catch-me's" was "cross- 
catch-me," and you will need some more 
explanation to understand this game. 
One of us was again selected to be "it," 
and all the others would try to get away. 
Now the chase started. Suppose Robert 
was chasing Pieter, trying to catch him. 
Just as Robert was nearing Pieter, on 
came Bertje, and ran between Robert 
and Pieter, thus "crossing off the catch. " 
Now Robert had to try to catch Bertje 
before another boy could " cross " him. 
And so the game would go on and on. 
When a catch was made, it was the boy 
who had been touched who had to run 
and catch the others. 

I am told that a similar game, called 
" cross-tag," is well known among the 
boys and girls of this country. 

The playgrounds are in front or at the 
back of the schools, and they have quite 
long runs shaded by big trees. 



TEN O 9 CL GK PL A YTIME 19 

For one of our games we would draw a 
line dividing the playground into two 
sections. One of us would be the station- 
master and stand on the line. The rest 
of us would approach him, and the fol- 
lowing conversation would occur : 

11 Where are you going ? " the station- 
master would ask. 

" To Ostend (or any other city we had 
in mind)," the boys would sing. 

" Where is your ticket? " 

" We have no ticket." 

" Then you shall not pass." 

" We must pass, and we shall pass." 

And then the chase would begin, each 
one of us trying to get over the line and 
pass the station-master, who was doing 
his best to catch one of us. 

He usually would catch one or two. 
Next time the same conversation was 
repeated, except for a change in the name 
of our destination. Moreover, this time 
the station-master was helped in his work 
by the boys he had caught, and who now 



20 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

were his assistants. We would play like 
this until the station-master had captured 
all the boys. 

Each game had its season. I have never 
been able to find out who ruled these 
sport seasons, but the fact remains that 
about the same time each year came the 
season for playing ball, then for marbles, 
then for spinning tops, then for hoop- 
rolling; then it was "jet"; after that it 
would be "kalinker" or cherry-stones, 
or disk-throwing. 

I believe that you know all about ball, 
marbles, tops, and hoops ; but perhaps 
you would like some enlightenment 
about the other games. I suggest that 
you try some of them in this country, as 
there is a good deal of fun to be found in 
each one of them. 



CHAPTER IV 



" JET " 



Let me tell you first about the jet. It 
was a stick about five inches long and 
one inch thick, pointed at both ends. It 
was placed on a stone with one end pro- 
jecting. With another stick about three 
times as long, one boy would hit the jet 
off the stone, and the others, standing at 
some distance, tried to catch the jet 
before it fell to the ground. Before the 
boy hit the stick he would cry " Jet"; and 
he could not hit it until the others cried 
back, " Yea." If one of them could catch 
it, it was his turn to hit ; and the game 
started over again. The jet was usually 
caught with the hands, but it was allow- 
able to hold one's cap for it. 

But let us suppose that no one did 

catch it. Then the boy nearest to the 

21 



22 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

spot where the jet fell would pick it up ; 
the boy who had hit the jet would place 
his stick in front of the stone ; and the 
other boy would throw the jet and try to 
hit this stick with it. If he did hit it 
it would be his turn to knock the jet off 
the stone. 

In case he did not touch the stick, 
however, the boy who was first " it " had 
to strike the jet and make it fly farther 
away from the stone. He could do this 
three times, providing that each time the 
jet fell farther away from the stone. He 
could accomplish this by striking the jet 
lightly, so as to catch it on the back of 
his stick when it fell, and in that way 
give a more powerful toss to the jet while 
it was still in the air. Or he could try 
to catch the jet several times on his stick, 
using the latter like a racquet. 

When he had hit the jet three times, 
the other boys would ask, "How much?" 
And the first boy had to judge how far 
the jet lay from the stone, that is, how 



" JET" 23 

many lengths of his stick. If he said 
fifty or one hundred lengths, and the 
boys agreed with him, he could add the 
amount stated to his score, and start the 
game anew. But if the boys thought 
that not so many stick-lengths were in 
the distance between the jet and the stone, 
the boy who had thrown the jet would 
have to measure the distance with his 
stick in as straight a line as possible, 
starting from the end of the jet farthest 
away from the stone. If the total of 
lengths was more than his estimate all 
the better for him ; he could now take the 
bigger total as his score. If the total was 
less than his guess, he had lost, and must 
take his chance with the other boys. 
The boy who had thrown the jet to the 
stone now took his place. The game 
continued until one of the boys had 
reached the final score of five hundred, or 
one thousand, or whatever amount had 
been previously agreed upon. 

There is one more point about this 



24 WEEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

game, and one which for us was of the 
utmost importance, because if one had 
the ability to do it, therein lay a chance 
to win the game almost at once. You 
noticed that three trials were allowed to 
hit the jet off the stone the second time ; 
and that the boy would try to catch the 
jet as many times as possible on his stick. 
I will now tell you why he did so. If 
he could catch the jet only once on his 
stick, the distance from the stone to the 
jet would be measured according to the 
length of his stick ; but if he could catch 
the jet twice on his stick, the distance 
would be measured by half stick-lengths, 
and so double his score. 

The following table gives the scale of 
measurement : 



One catch 


- measure 


with full stick 


Two catches - 


a 


" half stick 


Three " - 


" 


" jet 


Four " - 


" 


" half jet 


Five " - 


a 


u top of jet 


Six " - 


" 


" half top of jet 


Seven " 


the game 


was won without 




measuring. 



"JET" 25 

The game does look a little compli- 
cated, but it is very easy once the rules 
are understood. Moreover, you can learn 
it at first without including all of the 
rules, for instance, leaving out the smaller 
measures, until you know how to play it 
quite well. Then use all the rules. 



CHAPTER V 

" KALINKER," CHERRY-STONES, AND DISKS 

The " Kalinker" is a game which is 
just as popular with the boys as with the 
girls. I have found no name to translate 
it, so I give it here its national Belgian 
name. To play it you need a square flat 
piece of wood about one inch thick and 
three or four inches wide. This is called 
the kalinker. On the ground draw one 
of the diagrams pictured on the opposite 
page, about six or seven yards in length 
and about three or four in width. The 
first diagram is used by the younger 
children, the second by the older ones, or 
those who know the game better. 

The game can be played with several 

children, but usually not more than five 

or six play with one diagram. One of 

26 



" KALINKEB" ETC. 



27 



the boys starts the game by standing in 
front of the line A B, being careful not to 
touch the lines of the diagram with his 
feet. He then throws the Jcalinker into 
the space numbered one. Now he has to 



/5 


6\ 


4 


7 


3 


8 


Z 


9 


1 


10 





A B 

A 3 

DlAGEAM FOB " KALINKEB," OB BELGIAN HOP-SCOTCH. 

hop on one foot into this space, and try to 
kick the Jcalinker back over the line A B. 
He is allowed to jump on one foot several 
times in the space numbered one, but if 
he touches a line with his foot, or if he 
touches the Jcalinker without kicking it 



28 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

over the line A B, he has forfeited his 
turn. 

But let us say that everything goes 
well, and that he has been successful in 
kicking out the halinker. He next has 
to throw it into space two ; kick the 
halinker with the foot on which he is 
jumping into space one; hop on the 
same foot into space one ; kick the ka- 
linker over the line A B, and hop out, 
always on one foot. He repeats the same 
thing for spaces three, four, five, etc., 
hopping on one foot, and kicking the 
kalinker from space to space, until it is 
over line A B. It is a foul : 

To stand with a foot on the lines. 

To stand on two feet when in the 
diagram. 

To throw or kick the kalinker on a 
line. 

To touch the kalinker with the foot 
without kicking it into the next space. 

The game is won by the boy who first 
goes through all the spaces. When any 



"KALINKER" ETC. 29 

one misses in space four, for instance, he 
can start again from space four at his 
next turn. 

Sometimes it is permitted to kick the 
halinker more than one space at a time, 
and also to rest on two feet in space six. 
This is also a fine game, and surely you 
must try to play it with your friends. 

We used to play for cherry-stones dur- 
ing the cherry season in midsummer. 
Each had a small bag in which he kept 
his collection of dried and colored cherry- 
stones, often having as many as four or 
five thousand. We sold them afterwards 
to nursery-men at five Belgian cents a 
thousand. This is about two cents in 
United States money. 

We used to play for cherry-stones in 
this way. We drew a diagram of about a 
foot in length on the ground or on paper, 
like that on the following page. 

Two boys or girls play together. Jan 
would start the game by putting a little 
black stone on A ; Jef would next put a 



30 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

little red or white stone on I or anywhere 
else he fancied ; and Jan would put his 
next stone at B. The boy who first has 





E 




H 



DlAGEAM FOE GAME WITH CHEEEY- STONES. 

his three stones on one straight line wins 
the game. 

As Jan now has a stone on A and one 
on B, Jef will next put a stone on C, 
and he will now have his two stones on 
C and I. If Jan is bright, he will at 
once put his third stone on F so that 
Jef cannot complete his line of three. 
Jef will perhaps put his third stone 
at G. After this move each boy has 
three stones in the game. There are left 
three open spaces into which each boy in 



"KALINKER" ETC. 31 

turn moves one of his stones, until one 
boy finishes his straight line, and wins. 

The stake would be ten, twenty-five, 
or even one hundred cherry-stones at a 
time, so we paid a great deal of attention 
to the placing and moving of the stones. 
After a while there is a good deal of 
ability necessary to win a game. 

Several boys could play disk-throwing 
together. First we drew two parallel 
lines about two yards long on the ground 
about six or seven yards apart. We used 
round flat metal disks two inches in 
diameter, each boy having three disks 
marked with his initials, or a heart, or 
cross, or some other sign. We could buy 
them at the store three for one sou, that 
is, one Belgian cent. 

Each boy in turn would stand behind 
one line, and throw his disks one at a 
time, trying to come as near as possible 
to the other line. The disk nearest to 
the line won one count, and if on the 
line it counted two. If more than one 



32 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

disk was on the line, they would count 
two for each one, no matter to whom 
the disks belonged. Twenty-five or fifty 
points made the game, and usually the 
stake was one or two marbles. 



CHAPTER VI 

WORK AT SCHOOL 

As I told you before, I was born at 
Roulers, a town of about twenty-five thou- 
sand inhabitants. Roulers is situated in 
the province of West Flanders. Belgium 
has nine provinces, and its whole area is 
only about eleven thousand five hundred 
square miles, — much less than some of 
the states in this country. 

In the northern part of the country, 
— comprising the provinces of West and 
East Flanders, the provinces of Antwerp, 
Limburg, and the northern part of Bra- 
bant, — people speak Flemish, which is 
the same as the Dutch language. In the 
southern part of Belgium, called the 
Walloon provinces, — that is, Hainault, 

Namur, Liege, and Luxemburg, — the 

33 



34 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

people speak the French language. You 
will readily understand that in such a 
small country, where it takes only four 
or five hours by rail to travel from one 
end to the other, everybody wants to 
know the two languages. As I was born 
in Flanders, we spoke Flemish at home, 
and so I had to learn French at school. 
Children start learning French when 
seven or eight years old. After they 
have studied it for one year, they have 
to speak it always during playtime. To 
enforce this rule, a little book, called 
the " sign/' circulates among the school- 
children. On Monday morning the 
teacher has the " sign " in his pocket, 
and as he walks about among the 
children, he listens to their talk. When 
he hears a boy speak Flemish, the 
teacher takes out the " sign " and gives 
it to the boy. This boy will write his 
name in the booklet, and carry it in his 
pocket. He is not allowed to play as 
long as he carries the " sign/ 7 but he 



WORK AT SCHOOL 35 

must be on the lookout for another boy 
not speaking French, and when he hears 
one, he will at once hand the " sign " to 
the second boy. 

This boy knows what it means, and 
will make very little fuss about it so that 
his comrades will not notice that he 
now carries the sign-book. He rapidly 
writes his name in the book, and is now 
himself on the lookout for a boy speak- 
ing Flemish. Each week a count is made 
of the number of times your name is in 
the " sign," and one point is lost for each 
time your name is in it. For instance, 
if your name was signed four times you 
would lose four points of the twenty 
which were to be won for speaking 
French regularly. 

A " good points " book is given each 
Saturday to each pupil, and in it stands 
a record of his week's work. For in- 
stance, he will get fifteen out of twenty 
points for French ; twenty out of twenty 
for Flemish, twelve out of twenty for 



36 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

arithmetic, and so on. His father or 
mother has to sign his name in the book 
under each weekly report. 

If children do not attend school, a card 
is sent at once to their parents asking 
the reason for the absence, so that there 
is no chance for the school-children to be 
absent without their parents knowing it 
the same day. School is in session for 
six days every week, and it was only 
when we were beginning to learn French 
that we were given Thursday afternoon 
free. Of course we have also Christmas, 
Easter, and the summer holidays. 

All the children must go to school up 
to their thirteenth year, and as it is not 
possible for the children of the canal- 
boatmen to go to school regularly, special 
" holiday " classes exist for them. 

Belgium is for the most part a flat 
country, and many canals have been 
digged to make the transportation of 
goods easier. On these canals are the 
canal-barges or canal-boats with the boat- 




A Canal in Belgium. 



WORK AT SCHOOL 37 

man, his wife, and his children living on 
board. 

Now as these canal-barges are always 
travelling from one city to the other, you 
see that it would be impossible for the 
children living on them to go to one 
school regularly. Therefore wherever 
the boat arrives and lies for more than 
one day, unloading and loading, the 
children of the boatmen are sent to the 
" holiday " school ; so called because the 
children who attend have a holiday dur- 
ing most of the week, as they go to school 
only for one or two days at a time. This 
holiday class is small, and its members 
are always new. 

In order that the schoolmaster of each 
school they attend may at once know 
how far advanced these children are, the 
children carry special report-books in 
which each master will write not only 
about the lesson he taught, but also about 
the advance lesson which he gave the 
pupils to study. With the help of this 



38 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

book every master can at once pick up 
the study where the former master 
stopped. It may seem curious, but many 
of these canal-children, in spite of their 
scanty childish instruction, afterwards 
become good college students. They gain 
mental ability as well a$ knowledge by 
their varied experience and observation. 



CHAPTER VII 

HOLIDAYS IN BELGIUM 

The Christmas and New Year's holi- 
days are only for one week, and as the 
weather then is nearly always rainy and 
cold, we had to keep indoors most of the 
time. Christmas day is usually a very 
quiet one in Belgium, as no presents are 
given to children then. 

St. Nicholas day, however, which falls 
on the sixth of December, was always a 
great event. Then we had our basket 
put under the chimney, and in the morn- 
ing it was filled with all kinds of candy 
and playthings. At school, too, we 
would find that the schoolmaster had 
put some candy and either a new pencil 
or penholder in our desks. 

Another big day for us was New Year's 
39 



40 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

day. For this day we made no end of 
preparations. A month before we had to 
tell the schoolmaster how many New 
Year's letters we had to write : we wrote 
them to our parents, to our grandfather 
and grandmother, to aunts and uncles, 
and often even to some special family 
friend. We wrote these letters at school 
with the utmost care on fine, big, white 
sheets of paper adorned with colored 
flowers and other illustrations in the left- 
hand corner. We had to practise read- 
ing these letters aloud, and often one 
letter was rewritten five or six times be- 
fore the master would find it good enough 
to be given and read at New Year's. 

The day before Christmas, when the 
holiday began, we took the letters home 
and carefully hid them. Then on New 
Year's morning at the breakfast-table I 
had to stand up and formally wish Father 
and Mother a " happy and blessed New 
Year," at the same time handing them 
my New Year's letter. 



HOLIDAYS IN BELGIUM 41 

After Father had looked it over, he 
would ask me to read it. I can still 
see myself standing there with the letter 
held fast by both hands, saluting first 
Mother then Father, and starting, " Dear 
Father and Dear Mother, 77 and finishing 
with the date. After I had read my let- 
ter, the New Year's cake was brought in 
and put on the table, — a big, square cur- 
rant-cake with circular flat decorations 
in the middle of the crust. Then Father 
gave me a double-franc-piece, and Mother 
also a franc, which were to be put to my 
account at the post-office bank. (A postal 
bank-book is given each school-child, and 
each Monday he has to bring to school at 
least one cent, which is put to his savings 
account.) 

But this was only the beginning of the 
day, and many visits were to be made. I 
had to go to my grandparents 7 , to my 
uncles 7 and aunts 7 , and everywhere I had 
to read my New Year 7 s letters, drink 
chocolate, and eat New Year 7 s cake, and 



42 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

receive one franc or double-francs for the 
bank. My rich Uncle Camille would 
even sometimes give me a big five-franc- 
piece, but that was the exception. 

During the Easter holidays the weather 
was better, and we could play outside. 
On Good Friday the church-bells and 
the chimes were never rung, and we were 
told that the bells had gone to Rome and 
would return next morning with the 
Easter eggs. We were up early Saturday 
morning, making little nests of hay, which 
we hid about the garden between bushes 
and in the flower-beds. 

Then while we had breakfast, Father or 
Mother would go into the garden and put 
the colored eggs and also chocolate and 
sugar eggs in the nests. And when at 
eight o'clock the church-bells rang, we 
would all cry out : 

11 The church-bells have returned from 
Rome I The church-bells have come 
back ! " 

And I would rush to the garden and 



HOLIDAYS IN BELGIUM 43 

look for my little nest, and find the eggs, 
and shout for joy ! Everywhere the chil- 
dren were on the street with their nests 
of Easter eggs, showing and comparing 
their treasures. The richer people gave 
their children big chocolate eggs filled 
with smaller sugar eggs ; the poorer peo- 
ple gave hen's eggs which the mothers 
had colored gold and red and blue ; but 
all the children were equally happy and 
glad that day. 

With the summer holidays, which be- 
gan in the middle of August and lasted 
until the first of October, would come the 
distribution of prizes. That yearly prize 
distribution is one of the big happenings 
in the life of the school-children in Bel- 
gium. Preparations were made weeks be- 
forehand : we had to learn a play, to 
learn the national anthem, to learn a 
special gymnastic lesson and many other 
things, all of which would be performed 
at the distribution of the prizes. But be- 
fore the prizes came the examinations for 



44 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

which the weekly reports were used as a 
basis, and there was much speculation 
between us over the probable winners of 
the first prizes. 

The day for the prize distribution was 
officially announced to all the parents ; 
the newspapers also gave notice of it, so 
that it became a sort of a holiday. And 
when the day came, the burgomaster was 
there, and the priests from the different 
Catholic churches, and all the school- 
masters in official black suits and white 
gloves. All the schoolboys had new 
suits and their mothers, aunts, and 
friends came dressed in their best to the 
big hall where the prize distribution was 
to be held. 

First the head-master said a few words 
of thanks to the priests, the burgomaster, 
and the parents and friends of the school- 
children for coming to this celebration. 
The band then played several selections. 
After that the children sang, performed 
gymnastic exercises, played games, and 



HOLIDAYS IN BELGIUM 45 

acted a play. One boy would have to 
tell a story, five or six others would give 
a representation of some historic happen- 
ing, and after all this entertainment the 
real distribution of the prizes would 
begin. 

I can tell you from experience that our 
hearts were beating fast when the an- 
nouncements began. Each boy hoped to 
be one of the first of his class ! First the 
master of the younger boys would read 
the names of the prize-winners in his 
class. You must have been through it 
yourself to appreciate fully the pride and 
gladness written on the face of the little 
man of five or six years, when his name 
was called as being the first of his class. 
He would walk up to the burgomaster, 
who put a laurel crown on the boy's 
head, and said a few words of congratu- 
lations before he handed the prize book 
to the winner. The band always played 
the national anthem while a boy was 
receiving the first prize. 



46 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

Then the names of the second, third, 
and fourth prizes were called. Among 
the " little ones/' as the first class was 
called, each boy received a prize, even 
if he was the last of his class. It would 
then be called an encouragement prize ; 
but the boy would be just as proud as if 
it were a first prize. 

When it came to the French language 
classes, however, only the first five or 
six boys received prizes. This was more 
serious, we felt, and the competition be- 
tween us was therefore harder. When 
all the prizes had been distributed, the 
burgomaster rose and said that he felt 
very happy and proud to have the chil- 
dren of this school try so hard to do 
their best and that now he granted us a 
six weeks' holiday as a final recompense. 
The band would play the "Brabangonne " 
again, while everybody stood and sang it 
together. And then holiday ! 



CHAPTER VIII 

UNCLE DOREN AND HIS MILL 

" Robert, if you are a good boy this 
week, we will go to Uncle Doren's mill 
next Thursday." So spoke my mother 
one Monday morning during the holiday 
weeks. And the promise delighted me, 
because a visit to Uncle Doren was al- 
ways a happy day. Monday, Tuesday, 
and Wednesday were long days for quiet 
behavior, but Thursday arrived at last, 
and I was up early and ready more than 
an hour before the time to start came. 

Uncle Doren lived in the village of 
Hooglede about six miles from our 
home, and to reach his house we had 
to take the tram, — a little steam railway 
running in the streets, and connecting 
the villages to the cities in Belgium. 
These trams are now gradually disap- 

47 



48 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

pearing, and the electric cars are taking 
their places. 

It took us more than an hour to get to 
Hooglede. The mill stands on top of the 
hill, and the wings were turning rapidly, 
as we could see from the windows of 
the tram, as it steamed up the hill to the 
market-place before the church. Pol and 
his sister Margaret, the children of my 
uncle, with Duke, the dog, were waiting 
for us at the arrival of the tram. The 
children were expecting me, and they 
told me at once of the preparations in 
our honor. Aunt Marie had made rice- 
tart, and we would have French fried 
potatoes at noon and we would take a 
long drive in the dog-cart with Duke to 
draw us, and we would go to the wind- 
mill, and do no end of other things. 

Uncle was at work in the mill when 
we arrived at the farmhouse, but Aunt 
Marie was standing on the door-step wait- 
ing for us. She had already cried " Wel- 
come ! " when we were still on the road. 




A Belgian Windmill. 




Ancient Watch-Tower and Dam at Bruges. 



UNCLE DO REN AND HIS MILL 49 

We were led at once to the dining-room, 
where, after taking off our hats, we were 
urged to eat some currant bread, as Aunt 
Marie feared we might be hungry after 
our journey. 

A description of such a farmhouse 
dining-room might interest you. It had 
two windows with little square glass 
panes. Beneath these windows was a 
bench, which ran all along the front wall 
and in front of the bench stood the long 
whitewashed wooden table with dark- 
brown straw-covered chairs placed around 
it. In one corner were the stairs leading 
to the upper floor, and in a nook near 
the stairs a tall oaken Flemish clock 
sounded each quarter-hour, and indicated 
not only the hour and minutes but also 
the periods of the moon and the seasons. 

A big open fireplace occupied another 
side of the room. By this fireplace stood 
Uncle Doren's arm-chair, and there, too, 
hung his long pipe, the copper match-box, 
and his tobacco-pouch. From a shelf 



50 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

above the fireplace hung a short, blue 
curtain with tiny white dots in it, and on 
the shelf itself stood a row of old round 
dishes. These were dishes which had 
been in the family for many years, big 
plates with many-colored flowers, and 
others with fruit and other farm produce 
represented on them. Just above the 
middle of the shelf hung the cross with 
the ivory Christ on it. 

The floor was of red tiles with white 
sand strewn on it. In the sand pretty de- 
signs had been made with the sweeping- 
brush. On the walls were a few pictures, 
and near the stairs was placed a little 
stone holy-water pot with some palm- 
leaves fastened above it. 

After we had eaten a little, Pol and 
Margaret took me to the cart-house where 
the little driving-cart for Duke was also 
kept. Duke was eager to be harnessed. 
The dog-cart was about the size of a 
baby's four-wheeled go-cart, but about 
twice as wide. It had only two seats, but 



UNCLE DOEEN AND HIS MILL 51 

one more passenger could easily be seated 
at the back, if he did not object to having 
his legs dangle outside. 

The dog and cart were soon ready, and 
off we went at a rapid pace. We drove 
quite a long way along the canal, and 
met several flat-bottomed barges, laden 
with all kind of farm produce, and each 
one drawn by a horse who walked steadily 
along the canal dyke. The driver would 
either follow his horse, or would walk 
behind with another driver, often more 
than two hundred yards behind his own 
barge, where another horse was drawing 
another barge. Soon we came to the 
lock-bridge which we had to cross. But 
we were obliged to wait here, as the lock 
was open, and some boats must pass first. 

I think that the working of these canal- 
locks would interest you, and therefore I 
will tell you how the ships pass through 
them. 

Roulers is connected by a canal to the 
River Lys. Now although there are no 



52 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

mountains and only low hills in the 
Flanders, the land slopes slightly ; for 
instance, the city of Roulers lies higher 
than the River Lys. So, you see, all the 
water in the canal would flow into the 
Lys, if it was not checked on its way, 
and the canal would very soon be dry. 
It is to prevent this occurrence that 
canal-locks are built. Here is a little 
picture of the lock that may help you to 
understand it more easily. 



Routers 



(B_ 



4 

Lock 1 Lock 2 

Canal-Locks. 



To river Lys 



C — - 



First notice the boat which is to pass 
from the canal at Roulers to the River 
Lys, and notice also the difference in 
height between the water level A and 
the level C. In order, therefore, that the 



UNCLE DO BEN AND HIS MILL 53 

water in section A of the canal cannot all 
flow into section C and leave section A 
dry, there has been constructed at the 
point where the canal joins the river, 
somewhere near the middle of the canal, 
a door-locked section B. This section B 
is only about forty yards long, and is 
closed by big wooden doors. Now when 
the ship coming from Roulers into sec- 
tion A wants to enter the lock, the lock- 
keeper slowly opens, by means of ma- 
chinery at the side of the lock, the door 
of Lock 1, and the water in section A 
flows into section B ; and after a short 
while the water in sections A and B is at 
the same level. 

As soon as the ship has been towed 
into section B, the lock-keeper will close 
Lock 1, and then slowly open the doors 
of Lock 2. The water now flows from 
section B into section C, and again in 
a short time the level of the water in 
B and C is the same. The boat can now 
proceed on its journey. If a ship wants 



54 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

to go from the Lys to Roulers, the opera- 
tion of the locks is naturally reversed. 

It did not take long for the boats to go 
through the lock that day, and we could 
soon drive over the bridge. But it was 
very warm, and Duke let his tongue 
hang out of his mouth, and trotted more 
slowly after a while. So we halted near 
a little brook, and here we played the 
best part of the forenoon, catching stickle- 
back fishes. 

But before we realized it the church- 
bells struck the half-hour. It was half- 
past eleven and time to go home for din- 
ner, which is served at all the farmhouses 
about five minutes past twelve o'clock. 
When the bells in the church-tower strike 
noon, all the working-men hasten home, 
where the buttermilk soup stands ready 
on the table. 

We all sat together at the long table, — 
Uncle, Aunt Marie, my mother, and we 
children at the end of the table nearest 
the fireplace, and the maid and the five 




B 
e 



I 

o 

o 

Q 



UNCLE DOREN AND HIS MILL 55 

men working on the farm and in the mill 
at the other end. Uncle Doren said grace 
while every one remained standing. The 
men stood with their caps in their two 
hands before their eyes meanwhile, and 
after the blessing they put their caps on 
their heads again, and kept them on dur- 
ing dinner. 

The farm dinner was a simple meal, 
starting with buttermilk soup, followed 
by potatoes, bacon or pork, and vege- 
tables. Usually that would be all, but 
to-day Aunt Marie had prepared rice- 
tart, — a cherished dish for all children in 
Belgium. Did Grandmother not always 
tell us when we were babies that in heaven 
we would eat rice-tart with silver spoons ? 
You can imagine that we tried our best 
to do honor to that rice-tart, and that 
although it was a very big one, nothing 
was left of it at the end of the meal. 

After dinner Pol asked me to go with 
him to the mill. Do you know how a 
Flemish windmill is built ? It has four 



56 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

wings fitted with sails, which are opened 
more or less, according to the velocity of 
the wind. The whole upper structure, 
including these wings, is supported by an 
upright shaft, and can be turned round at 
will. Consequently, whichever way the 
wind blows — north, south, east, or west — 
the miller is able to turn the wings " to the 
wind," and the wings will start revolv- 
ing, and will work the grinding-stones 
inside, which crush and mill the grain. 

In Belgium the windmills are used 
chiefly to make flour and to crush the 
rape-seed and extract the rape-seed oil. 
Inside the mill there are stairways which 
extend all the way to the top. It was out 
there on the top that we children liked to 
go, as the outlook was fine. We could see 
the whole country for miles around ; and 
we took great delight in watching some 
train wind its way across the fields, puffing 
white smoke into the air, or in counting 
the many church-towers, and naming the 
different villages. 



UNCLE DOBEN AND HIS MILL 57 

But best of all was the long rope which 
dangled from the horizontal axle, and 
which was used to lower the sacks of flour 
into the peasants' carts. Pol and myself 
loved to cling to this rope and be lowered 
from the top of the mill to the carts below. 
Nobody seemed to think this was a dan- 
gerous thing to do, even though we 
should have dropped more than twenty 
yards below if we had let go the rope. 
Well, this accident never happened, to 
my knowledge. Perhaps Uncle had done 
the same thing when he was a child, and 
so did not see any harm in our doing it. 
We would simply cling to the rope, and 
there was no question of letting go. 

In the afternoon Mother and Aunt 
Marie, with Pol, Margaret, and myself, 
went for a walk in the fields. Aunt 
Marie wished to show Mother how fine 
the crops were looking, and said that if 
all went well, the crop of potatoes and 
sugar-beets would be better that year than 
the year before. As we passed the house 



58 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

of Farmer Vandenberghe, we saw that all 
the blinds were closed, and that a straw 
cross was lying in the road in front of the 
farm, indicating to all passers-by that 
there had been a recent death in that 
family. We all crossed ourselves, and 
according to the custom, silently said a 
prayer for the soul of the dead. 

Aunt Marie now told us about the 
daughter of Farmer Vandenberghe. She 
was twelve years old, had received her 
first communion the year before, and was 
already such a great help to her mother. 
Unfortunately she had taken a bad cold, 
which grew so much worse that she had 
finally died, and was now an angel in 
heaven. The funeral was to be held in 
the morning, and Margaret was to take 
part in the service. 

If I could stay, said Aunt Marie, I 
could also go to the funeral the next day. 

Mother let herself be persuaded, and to 
my joy I was allowed to stay over night 
and sleep with Pol in his bed. Mother 



UNCLE DOREN AND HIS MILL 69 

went home alone, and soon after supper 
Pol and I went to bed. 

The funeral of Threseken Vandenberghe 
was to take place at nine o'clock in the 
morning. The school-children of the vil- 
lage were present. All the girls, dressed 
in white with little crowns of white flow- 
ers in their hands, marched to the out- 
skirts of the village, and there awaited 
the coming of the big four-wheeled cart 
covered with a white linen cloth and 
drawn by two horses. On this cart, 
which served as a hearse, stood the little 
coffin. Behind it followed the parents, 
brother and sisters of the dead child. 

When the cart reached the first houses 
of the village, the school-children sur- 
rounded it. Then the ten eldest climbed 
into the cart, and took the little white- 
draped coffin on their shoulders. In this 
way they all marched on, — first the eldest 
children with the coffin, then the other 
girls, then Threseken's parents and family, 
and finally the boys and other persons of 



60 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

the village who had come to the burial 
service. 

At the doors of the church, the proces- 
sion halted and the priests came singing 
to the door. After the usual prayers of 
the funeral service the children bore the 
coffin to the grave. Each little girl in 
turn threw her crown of flowers into the 
grave, and each boy and grown-up person 
threw a small spadeful of earth into the 
grave. It was sad indeed to see the poor 
parents weeping and weeping over their 
lost child. 



CHAPTER IX 

GRANDMOTHER 

My grandmother was about sixty years 
old, and she lived in a corner house near 
the railroad station. From my earliest 
childhood I liked to go to her house to 
see the trains pass by, and now that I 
come to think of it, I believe my long- 
ing for travel was born at that time. I 
well remember how I always kept asking 
Grandmother what there was at the place 
where the train disappeared into the hori- 
zon, and when we would go and see what 
lay behind that vanishing point. And 
Grandmother would give me some ex- 
planation or other, and would try to 
pacify me. But if I got too restless, she 
would tell me that she was going to make 
some candies. 

Well, that quieted me each time. 
61 



62 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

Grandmother's candies ! How delicious 
they were ! When in later years I bought 
candy, I always missed that flavor which 
Grandmother's had ; I have tried to make 
candies myself, too, for my little children, 
but to me they never tasted quite the 
same as Grandmother's candies. Per- 
haps if you try, you can find the lost 
flavor. I will tell you how to make the 
candies, and if you discover the special 
flavor I was telling about, you can send 
me some of your candies. I shall be 
very glad to taste them. 

Grandmother made two kinds of candy, 
but the second kind was about the same 
as the first. You want first a clean 
saucepan and a good hot fire. Then 
put into the saucepan half a pound of 
brown sugar ; pour on it half a teacup- 
ful of water ; and then add some butter 
about the size of a small match-box. 
Now stir slowly with a spoon until 
everything melts and begins to boil. 
Watch the candy carefully. If it boils 



GRANDMOTHER 63 

too fast, take it off the open fire, and put 
it on the lid. It must not boil too quickly. 
At first the bubbles will come in multi- 
tudes and burst quickly on the surface 
of the boiling sugar, and if you let the 
candy drip from the spoon then, it looks 
thin. After some more cooking, the bub- 
bles become scarcer and deeper, and the 
candy gets much thicker. Watch it care- 
fully. Now it is about done. 

Have ready half a dozen buttered 
plates. Look at the candy again : it is 
turning a little browner, and the bub- 
bles now hardly burst, and when they 
do, they make what looks like a deep 
hole in the boiling candy. It is ready 
now. Have a wet handkerchief ready so 
the handle of the pan will not burn your 
hand. Take the saucepan from the stove, 
and pour the candy slowly on the plates. 
Do not pour too much ; see that you have 
some for each plate. Let it cool a while, 
and now taste it. Do you like it ? Does 
it have Grandmother's flavor ? 



64 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

The other candy Grandmother made 
was really about the same, except that 
when it was nearly done, Grandmother 
would drop in a quarter-pound of chopped 
almond pits, or walnut meats, or chopped 
figs. It is not hard to make this candy, 
too, but I advise you to start with the 
first kind. 

My grandmother was also my best 
friend, and I well remember that when 
I was a child I always said I would 
marry Grandmother. On such days as 
Three Kings' Day in January we would 
feast at Grandmother's home together 
with my cousins, and other girls and 
boys of the neighborhood were assem- 
bled. 

You remember the story of three kings 
who came to Bethlehem, bringing gold, 
incense, and myrrh to Jesus. In Belgium 
that day is still a kind of a holiday for 
the children ; the evening before and the 
whole Day of the Three Kings children 
march through the streets, each one car- 



GRANDMOTHER 65 

rying a stick tipped with a star. The 
star is adorned with all kinds of colored 
paper, and can be turned round by draw- 
ing a cord. The boys and girls go sing- 
ing from door to door, making their stars 
turn round quickly as they sing. They 
receive small presents from many kind- 
hearted people. 

The song which the children sing is as 
follows : 

" Myn sterre, myn sterre niet stille meer staan 
Wy moeten te samen naar Betlehem gaan 
Naar Betlehem die schoone stad 
Waar kindje Jesus geboren lag." 

" My star, my star, do not stand still ; 
To Bethlehem we must now be hieing, 
To Bethlehem, that wonderful town 
Where Child Jesus is in his manger lying." 



CHAPTER X 

STORIES GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME 

My grandmother told me a great many 
stories about Emperor Charles V, who was 
born at Ghent. Emperor Charles was a 
peculiar man. He delighted in playing 
tricks on every one he could, and he was 
never cross when a trick was played on 
him. 

One day when he was at Audenarde, 

several students were drinking at the 

tavern on the market-place. Emperor 

Charles happened to pass the tavern on 

his big horse, and one of the students, 

who had been drinking too much beer, 

made a wager with his comrades that he 

would pull the nose of the Emperor. 

This proposition looked so out of the 

common that it was at once accepted. 

What did the student now do? He 
66 



STORIES GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME 67 

went to the barber of the Emperor and 
treated him to so many glasses of beer 
that by night the barber could not stand 
on his feet, and fell asleep in the tavern. 

Now it was the custom of the Emperor 
to be shaved early in the morning in the 
presence of his courtiers. While Peer, the 
usual barber, was still sleeping off his beer, 
the student presented himself at the royal 
apartments to shave the Emperor, saying 
that Peer was sick, and that he was his son. 
The student was admitted at once, and 
after some jests made by the Emperor, 
the " barber " was able to begin shaving. 

He put on the soap, and then took the 
Emperor's nose between two fingers, and 
started to shave. And he pulled the 
Emperor's nose this way, and he pulled 
it that way ; he pulled it up and down, 
and all the time kept a most serious face 
and went on with the shaving. 

So the students had to admit that he 
had pulled the nose of the Emperor, and 
therefore won his wager. 



68 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

One of the counselors of the Emperor 
was Dirk de Vos. In those days court 
etiquette was not as formal as it is now, 
and Counselor Dirk de Vos was called 
Dirk, for short, by all the people of the 
palace. 

By a coincidence it happened that the 
Empress had a cat also named Dirk. She 
was very fond of this cat, and took him 
with her everywhere. He used to sit in 
her lap and when she would stroke his 
fur, the cat would purr and arch his back 
to please his mistress. 

One day Dirk, the cat, fell sick, and 
although the Empress gave him milk, 
and tried all kinds of remedies, it was 
without avail. Poor Dirk died, and the 
Empress shed many tears over her pet. 

The next morning she summoned the 
cook, who was in those days a man of 
great importance, and told him that she 
wanted Dirk to be stuffed at once. 

When the cook heard this order, he 
fell on his knees, and asked : 



STORIES GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME 69 

" Oh, gracious Empress, is it really 
your order that Dirk shall be stuffed, or 
have I misunderstood ? " 

" Yes, that is my order, and I want it 
done at once. You will have Dirk 
stuffed, and bring him to me this evening 
without fail." 

The poor cook had to agree. Counselor 
Dirk was his friend, but what could he, 
a mere cook, do? If the Empress or- 
dered Dirk to be stuffed, well, the cook 
must execute that order. Oh, it was 
an awful world, he thought, and this 
was a terrible order ! And as he did 
not dare go to Dirk alone, he took with 
him the four soldiers who had stood in 
attendance when the Empress gave the 
order. 

After some inquiry the cook and his 
guard found Counselor Dirk in his office. 
The cook came forward with the four 
soldiers, and began : 

11 Friend Dirk, I have sad news for 
you." 



70 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

" What is that ? " asked Dirk de Vos. 
" Am I to be put in prison ? " 

" It is worse than that, friend Dirk, 
and I hardly know how to tell you." 

" What then, does the Emperor want 
me to be deported ? " 

" Worse still, friend Dirk. Oh, it is 
awful ! » 

" Oh, heavens ! You do not say that 
I have so displeased my Lord King that 
he wants me to die ? " 

" Oh, friend Dirk, how can I tell you? 
This suspense is awful for you, so I will 
inform you that the Empress wants you 
to be stuffed at once, and brought to her 
before the evening." 

" Stuffed! Stuffed, you fool?" cried 
Dirk. 

" Oh, I wish I were a fool ! " groaned 
the cook, " but these soldiers can vouch 
for the order. And as time passes, I must 
pray thee, friend Dirk, to make haste. 
We must go at once to the stuffer." 

It did the counselor no good to plead, 



STORIES GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME 71 

or to protest that such an order was 
never heard of before, and that surely 
there was a mistake. The cook said that 
he regretted the order more than any- 
body else, but that he was not going to 
risk being stuffed himself, too, by dis- 
pleasing the Empress ; and he made the 
four soldiers seize poor Dirk de Vos. 

And so, crying and howling for help, 
Dirk was on his way to the stuffer, and 
all the people in the streets exclaimed at 
this awful procession. The people said 
that surely Dirk de Vos must have done 
a most terrible thing to incur such a 
punishment ! They had known of men 
being hung and of others being quar- 
tered, but being stuffed, — that was an un- 
heard-of penalty. 

When the soldiers, dragging the strug- 
gling Dirk between them, passed the pal- 
ace, it happened that Emperor Charles 
stood at a window looking out on the 
street. At the sight of the soldiers with 
that man in their midst, howling and 



72 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

fighting to get away, the Emperor be- 
came curious, and immediately sent a 
servant to bring the man before him. 

Charles could not believe his own eyes 
when he saw that the prisoner was Dirk, 
his counselor. In reply to his questions 
the Emperor learned that by order of the 
Empress Dirk was to be stuffed ; not 
only the cook, but the four soldiers as- 
sured Charles of that fact. 

What now ? What had Dirk done to 
the Empress? The Emperor requested 
her presence ; and after a while she ap- 
peared in state dress, followed by ladies 
in waiting, because only on most formal 
occasions did the Emperor ask the Em- 
press to come to the court-room. 

When Dirk de Vos saw the Queen, he 
tore himself away from his guards and 
knelt down before her, asking her pardon 
for whatever he might have done to dis- 
please her. 

But the Queen herself was bewildered, 
and it was only when Charles asked her 



STORIES GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME 73 

rather sharply why Dirk was to be 
stuffed, that she understood. Then she 
burst out laughing. Dirk stuffed? Yes, 
but Dirk her cat I 

There were many more stories which 
Grandmother told me. Surely you know 
some of these stories in this country, — 
such as that of " Little Red Riding-Hood 
and the Wolf," " Beauty and the Beast," 
or " Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." 
I always took much pleasure, too, in hear- 
ing about the foolish inhabitants of the 
imaginary village of Oolen, where the 
burgomaster and his counselors, when 
building a town-hall, forgot to have the 
windows put in the plan, so that there 
was no light in the hall when it was 
built ; where the servant-girls would 
start washing the stairs from downwards 
up. It was real topsy-turvy land there 
in Oolen, where the people were so 
foolish that they did everything wrong. 



CHAPTER XI 

TO BOARDING-SCHOOL AT BLANKENBERGHE 

When I was eleven years old I had 
to receive my first communion at the 
church. Every Friday morning for two 
years the curate had come to school 
to give us an hour's instruction about 
religious matters ; and we spent the entire 
last two weeks before the communion day 
at church, as we had many instructions 
and commendations to receive. It was 
two weeks before Easter that we made our 
first communion, and, as usual, there was 
a big family dinner, including all my 
uncles and aunts, my grandmother and 
grandfather, at our house. 

At this dinner the discussion turned to 
my future ; I had finished my work at 
the primary school, and now the question 

to be decided was whether I should go to 

74 



TO BOARDING-SCHOOL 75 

college and study to be a lawyer, judge, 
notary, or any other public official, or 
whether I should take a commercial 
course at a boarding-school, and later be- 
come a business man, as my father was. 
I sat there at the head of the table listen- 
ing and wondering what would be de- 
cided. My head was full of the wonder- 
ful tales of Fenimore Cooper and of 
Defoe's " Robinson Crusoe/' and when 
my father at length asked me where I 
would like to go, I was quick enough 
in my answer, " To America ! " 

Of course that made everybody laugh, 
but, nevertheless, it settled the matter in 
the direction of the commercial instruc- 
tion, because a boy who wanted so much 
to travel over the world would have 
more need for that kind of learning. It 
was arranged for me to go to the board- 
ing-school at Blankenberghe by the sea- 
side. 

So after the Easter holidays I was sent 
to Blankenberghe. I well remember that 



76 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

first trip, because I had to go alone, 
as my father was away from home on a 
journey, and Mother was sick. Ah, it is 
a hard separation to be away from home 
for three months, and although I was full 
of high spirits, and was pleased enough 
to go, I wept a long while before I left 
home and bade Mother farewell. 

Now I had to get used to a new rou- 
tine, — rising at six o'clock each morning, 
and going to bed regularly at nine o'clock 
each evening. The first weeks were aw- 
ful. I longed for home and for my 
mother, I did not like the food, and 
wrote my parents that it was not good 
and that I did not want to stay at the 
school any longer. 

Thereupon one day quite unexpect- 
edly my mother paid me a visit, bring- 
ing with her candies and cakes and other 
sweets. She explained to me that if I 
ever was to become a man and travel all 
over the world, I must gain experience 
and must try to become accustomed to 



TO BOARDING-SCHOOL 77 

other food, even if it was different from 
that which I got at home. Well, Moth- 
er's visit consoled me, and, perhaps be- 
cause I felt more hungry after a while, 
the food at the school seemed to get better. 
Before the summer holiday came I was 
entirely used to it. 

The sea-coast of Belgium is a very flat 
land, with sand-dunes about ten to twenty 
yards high at the water's edge. Formerly 
the sea flooded the whole of this sandy 
territory with each tide ; but by means of 
dykes this rich land has been gradually 
reclaimed and fitted for cultivation. 
There live our hardy Flemish peasants. 
There also is made the renowned lace, 
which is known all over the world as 
Brussels lace, although nearly all of it is 
made in the Flanders. These peasants 
live a quiet, happy life, for they have few 
needs. Their houses are small, with 
straw-covered roofs to keep them warm 
in the winter ; the man with his sons 
tills the land ; and the wife and daughters 



78 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

make lace. It is simple living, but they 
are happy with what they have. 

When on Thursday afternoons and on 
Sundays we took walks with the head- 
master, we often went to one of these 
little farms, where we could play in the 
meadows or on the downs. From time 
to time we would also visit some city in 
the neighborhood. Such a trip as this 
would take a whole Sunday, starting 
early in the morning. Each city had a 
great deal to tell us about our forefathers 
and the history of our country, and our 
master liked to kindle patriotism in our 
hearts by telling us of the greatness of 
the Flanders in years gone by, when 
Bruges was called " The Venice of the 
North." 

I shall never forget that visit to Bruges 
on the day when the statues of Breydel 
and Delonninck were unveiled in the 
market-place there. That was the first 
time I saw our present King Albert ; he 
was then a tall boy about fourteen years 




Albert, King of the Belgians. 



TO BOARDING-SCHOOL 79 

old, whom everybody cheered as " Prince 
Albert." Even at that time we liked him 
for his fine, manly qualities. 

That first time I saw him was vividly 
recalled to my mind in the early days 
of the present war, when at this same 
Bruges a big blue limousine was passing 
on its way to Ostend. Our King Albert 
sat in a corner alone. In the market- 
place a man recognized him, and called 
out, " De Koning ! " ( " The King ! " ). It 
seemed as if an electric current had 
shaken the whole city ; the streets filled 
with people, all shouting, " Long live our 
King ! " ; the women were crying ; and 
the general excitement was intense. Then 
some one started to sing " The Lion of the 
Flanders," with its, for us, entrancing 
chorus : 

" The Lion of the Flanders cannot be tamed 
As long as a Fleming lives." 

King Albert was " The Lion of the 
Flanders " embodied again. As one man 



80 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

we lived history over, and thrilled at the 
thought that our forefathers on the same 
market-place had sung the same an- 
them when Robert de B6thune was the 
deliverer of the country ; when Breydel 
and Delonninck, our own men of the 
people, — whose statues now looked down 
on us from their marble pedestal in the 
middle of the market-place, — had fought 
with " Robert the Lion," and saved the 
Flanders from the French in 1302. The 
enemy then lost the flower of its nobles, 
and more than six hundred golden spurs 
were picked up from the battle-field of 
Courtrai, and hung from the ceiling of 
St. Martin's Cathedral there. This con- 
test has been known ever since as " The 
Battle of the Spurs." 

And now the people had flocked to- 
gether again, and made obeisance to their 
King. The car had to stop for two or 
three minutes, and the King was obliged 
to speak a few words to his people before 
the way was open again. 



TO BOARDING-SCHOOL 81 

But this is looking ahead of my school 
years. I stayed four years at the board- 
ing-school at Blankenberghe, and grew 
to be a sturdy youth of fifteen. These 
years I passed at Blankenberghe have 
many happy remembrances for me ; we 
were only from twelve to fifteen boys all 
together, and we became like brothers to 
each other. There were many more pu- 
pils coming each day to the same school, 
but they lived in the city, and went 
home each evening. 

Our winters in Belgium are not so se- 
vere as in this country, and we rarely 
have zero weather. Nevertheless, we 
have some ice each winter, and skating 
is a favorite recreation with the school- 
children. As the ice-season is very short, 
it is customary to give the children some 
free afternoons to go skating. This does 
not mean, however, that each boy can go 
where he likes ; all the teachers, even the 
head-master, go skating with the boys, 
and you often can see a whole school 



82 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

skating on a pond or on the inundated 
meadows. 

In the summer-time we had swimming, 
football, and shooting with the longbow. 
Archery clubs are to be found in every 
village and city of Belgium, and archery 
is one of the most popular sports. Let 
me give you a diagram and description 
of shooting with the longbow. 



L- 




Shooting for Wooden Pigeons with the Longbow. 



On a long iron or wooden pole about 
forty to fifty yards high are arranged 



TO BOABDING-SCHOOL 83 

several iron arms with pins on which are 
screwed wooden birds, or pigeons, as they 
are called. In order to affix the birds to 
the arms of the pole easily, the upper 
part A of the perch is lowered on the 
fork B, and after the birds are fastened, 
the pole is again raised to an upright po- 
sition. It has thick hinges in the middle, 
making it possible for the upper part to 
be bent down. The bottom of this upper 
part has a heavy counter-weight to aid in 
raising and lowering it by the cords, and 
to hold it steady when upright. 

The arrows have blunt, flat heads, and 
are tipped with horn. The " bowstring " 
is of wire. 

The members of the archery club draw 
their places by lot, and each one knows 
when his turn to shoot will come. Each 
bird brought down means a prize, but the 
birds on the top of the perch are smaller, 
screwed on more tightly, and much more 
difficult to shoot off, because the thin 
steel bars on which they are mounted 



84 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

swing from left to right in the wind. 
The topmost bird is the cock, and in it 
centers the interest of the game, since 
the cock's value as a prize is about twenty 
times the value of the smaller birds. 

We would go whole Thursday and 
Sunday afternoons in summer to the 
archery grounds, and never tire of the 
game. 



CHAPTER XII 

A TKIP THROUGH BELGIUM 

When I was fifteen years old, I came 
home for the summer holidays to a sad 
household. Father had lost a great deal 
of money, and instead of being able to 
study further at the Athenaeum, as I 
had expected, I found that I must 
start at once to work with Father. 
Nevertheless, I did not mind in the 
least being home for good. I had been 
happy at school, but not going to school 
any more made me feel like a man, and 
the responsibility of working with Father 
assured me that everything would go the 
better for this change. 

My parents, however, thought that I 

would be very sorry to be obliged to 

stay home, and therefore they promised 

me that in place of the usual two months' 

85 



86 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

holiday, Father would take me on a trip 
to several cities in Belgium. 

I am not now going to give you a de- 
scription of the various cities which we 
visited, because you can undoubtedly 
find much better information about 
each of these cities in the usual guide- 
books. But my father was full of little 
stories about things such as historic 
monuments, and since you probably have 
not heard of these things I will tell you 
some of them. 

We left home on a Saturday afternoon, 
and went first to Tournai in the province 
of Hainault which, as I have told you, is 
in the French-speaking district of Bel- 
gium. It is a fine old city with many 
remarkable monuments and museums. 

When we were standing in the market- 
place my father said to me : 

" Robert, you see here many old houses 
with beautiful fronts. Next to that big 
house there stands a hotel where the 
Austrian Emperor Joseph II slept, when 




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A TRIP THROUGH BELGIUM 87 

in 1781, on his progress through Belgium, 
he came to Tournai. 

" You know that Joseph II did not 
care anything for luxury and display. 
In the church of St. Gudule at Brussels, 
he refused to sit on the throne prepared 
for him, but sat instead on a small stool 
like a common man. He went about in 
a simple carriage and very often without 
attendants. Once he arrived in that 
fashion at a village where they awaited 
the visit from the Emperor. Joseph was 
alone and went to a simple inn. The 
innkeeper said to him : 

11 ' You belong, without doubt, to the 
suite of the Emperor ? ' 

" And the Emperor answered : ' I am 
the Emperor's barber. 7 

11 You can imagine how confounded 
this innkeeper was later, when he saw 
to whom he had really spoken. Never- 
theless, Joseph had told the truth, be- 
cause he always shaved himself. 

" He nearly always chose to lodge in 



88 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

a roadside inn. Here at Tournai, when 
he came to visit, the burgomaster would 
have a kingly residence ready for him, 
but the Emperor preferred the hotel over 
there." 

The following day we went to Ouden- 
arde. In the square near the station 
stands a monument with the single 
name " Tacamboro " on it. 

My father saw the inquiry in my eyes, 
and said : 

11 Tacamboro ? Mexico ? Does it not 
mean anything to you, Robert? This 
monument was erected in commemoration 
of the Belgians who perished in Mexico. 

" Belgium and Mexico? What is the 
relation between these two countries, you 
will ask me," continued my father. " A 
daughter of our first King Leopold I, 
named Charlotte, was married to Maxi- 
milian, Archduke of Austria, who later 
became Emperor of Mexico. But through 
a terrible revolt of his subjects, he lost 
not only his empire, but also his life. 



A TRIP THROUGH BELGIUM 89 

He was shot. Here at Oudenarde a 
regiment of Belgian soldiers was mus- 
tered as a body-guard for the Empress 
Charlotte in Mexico. After the death of 
Maximilian she became insane from sor- 
row ; and she still lives in the castle of 
Meysse at Bouchout near Brussels." 

Oudenarde is one of our oldest cities, so 
my father told me, and there was a time 
when at night there were no lights in the 
streets, and consequently much disturb- 
ance at night. In order to avoid the en- 
counters in the dark between the towns- 
men, the burgomaster of Oudenarde is- 
sued a command that each person going 
on the streets after sunset must carry a 
lantern with him. But the people of 
Oudenarde did not like such an inno- 
vation, although they did not dare dis- 
obey. So what did they do now? They 
walked in the streets at night, and each 
carried a lantern — but without light in it. 

A new order : Each lantern must be 
provided with a candle. The citizens 



90 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

placed candles in their lanterns, but did 
not light the candles. 

A third order was given : The candle 
must be lighted. The good citizens did 
not protest ; they lighted the candles, and 
carried the lanterns under their mantles. 
And no punishment could be meted out 
to them, however much the burgomaster 
would have liked to do it, because all his 
commandments were strictly followed. 

A fourth order was given : The lantern 
with lighted candle must be carried in 
such a way that the light could easily 
be seen. So finally the magistrates got 
their own way. After a while, of 
course, the citizens were obliged to con- 
fess that the order was a good one, and 
that everybody was now much safer on 
the streets at night. 

We went from Oudenarde to Sottegem, 
where we saw the grave of Count Egmont, 
who was beheaded by the Spaniards dur- 
ing the time of Alva, of bloody remem- 
brance to us. 



A TRIP THROUGH BELGIUM 91 

In Ath, the next town on our itinerary, 
we visited the house in which Louis 
Hennepin was born. Hennepin was a 
missionary and one of the leaders of La 
Salle 7 s expedition in America, and this 
Belgian missionary explored the Missis- 
sippi and Niagara Falls. 

From Ath we went to Brussels, Bel- 
gium's most beautiful city, rightly called 
a jewel in a jewel country ; and we visited 
all its historic monuments and wonderful 
museums. In the Church of Marie Louise, 
named after Belgium's first queen, and 
erected in her memory by national sub- 
scription, we saw the tombs of the kings 
and queens of Belgium. My father told 
me : 

" You know, Robert, that our first 
Queen was dearly beloved by her people, 
for she was truly a benefactress toward 
the poor. She once saw a poor beggar 
boy, and told him to bring her to his 
home, a cellar in the slums of Brussels. 
The Queen was startled by the distress 



92 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

which she saw there, and she at once pro- 
vided for these people. To an old woman, 
chilled with cold, whom she met on the 
Bridge of Laeken, she gave her own man- 
tle. Oh, she did many good deeds, and 
she was respected and honored by all her 
subjects. 

" There at the end of the church is the 
vault with the royal tombs. There rest 
Leopold I with his wife, Marie Louise, 
Leopold II and his son, who died at the 
age of ten, and also the brother of Leo- 
pold II, the Count of Flanders, and his 
eldest son, Baudouin. Our present King 
Albert is the second son of the Count of 
Flanders." 



CHAPTER XIII 

MY FATHER'S STORY OF WATERLOO 

From Brussels my father next took me 
to Waterloo, where he wanted me to see 
the historic battle-field which had meant 
the end of Napoleon. Even from afar we 
could see the big Lion on the hill. This 
monument is about five yards high and 
five yards long, and was placed on the 
slope of the hill at Waterloo by the allied 
powers who defeated Napoleon. 

We mounted the hill until we reached 

the base of the monument, and there my 

father gave me in a few words a lesson of 

history which I understood far better than 

the more lengthy lesson about the same 

matter which I had learned at school. 

My father told me the story in this 

fashion : 

" You know that Napoleon, after his 
93 



94 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

unsuccessful campaign in Russia and his 
defeats in Germany, was banished to the 
French Island of Elba near the coast of 
Italy. He arrived there in May, and at 
first he seemed to have accepted his lot 
quietly enough. ' This will be my coun- 
try of rest/ he remarked. Nevertheless, 
the fallen emperor wanted still to reign, 
if only over this small island, and he or- 
ganized an administration there. But in 
September his mood changed. His wife, 
as he had been promised, did not come to 
Elba ; the money pledged him was not 
sent regularly ; and he heard rumors of 
a banishment farther away, somewhere in 
Australia. Rumors even that his life was 
not safe reached him. 

" Then the scheme for returning to 
France came to Napoleon. He miracu- 
lously escaped from Elba with his small 
flotilla through the English fleet guard- 
ing the Mediterranean coast, and landed 
in the south of France, where he received 
a joyful ovation from the inhabitants. 



MY FATHER'S STORY OF WATERLOO 95 

Near Grenoble, Napoleon met the Fifth 
Regiment of France, which had been 
sent to defeat him. He rode alone to 
the front of the regiment, and cried : 

" ' Soldiers of the Fifth, do you want 
to kill your Emperor ? Then shoot ; here 
he stands ! 9 

" This was too much for them. Shout- 
ing with one voice, ' Vive V Emp&reur ! ' 
the jubilant soldiers surrounded their 
' little corporal.' And everywhere Napo- 
leon was greeted with enthusiasm. His 
entrance into Paris was a triumph. The 
king had fled to Ghent. 

" There was war again, because the 
powers of Europe could not allow Napo- 
leon to regain his former dominion. And 
the question of authority was decided here 
on the field which lies around us. In 
the first days of June, 1815, the allied 
troops were marching to the French fron- 
tier, but Napoleon wanted to anticipate 
them, and so he penetrated into Belgium. 
The Germans, commanded by Bliicher, 



96 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

were somewhere near Namur. The Eng- 
lish, together with the Dutch and Bel- 
gians, were south of Brussels under the 
command of Wellington. Napoleon did 
his best to prevent the two armies from 
uniting, for his plan was to beat the 
Germans and the English separately. 
He repulsed the Germans at Ligny, and 
left thirty-five thousand men under Gen- 
eral Grouchy to keep the Germans from 
advancing any further. 

11 In the meantime Napoleon's general, 
Ney, attacked the English at Quatre- 
Bras. The Dutch and Belgians under 
the Prince of Orange resisted the first 
shock bravely. But the allies fared badly 
at first. At Ligny Bliicher was wounded, 
and his horse was killed. At Quatre- 
Bras Wellington very nearly fell into 
the hands of the French. The English 
troops then retreated to a better position 
near Mount St. Jean, the hill which you 
see over there. The French army, as I 
said before, had been divided into two 



MY FATHER'S STORY OF WATERLOO 97 

parts : thirty-five thousand men under 
Grouchy were at Wavre trying to check 
the Germans, and the main body of the 
army, about eighty thousand strong, was 
here at Waterloo commanded by the Em- 
peror himself. 

" Wellington had a good position ; in 
front of him stretched that roadway 
down there, which at that time was not 
graded. It was therefore a big hindrance 
to the French cavalry for an attack on 
the English troops, and many French 
horsemen died there. Wellington was at 
the farmhouse on Mount St. Jean. Be- 
hind the English troops lay the forest 
of Soignes, which you can see in the 
northeast. In case Wellington was de- 
feated this forest would cover his retreat. 

11 Those days, — the seventeenth and 
eighteenth of June, 1815, — were real dog- 
days. It poured rain, too. On the night 
of the eighteenth Napoleon himself rode 
several times along the dark road to see 
if the English still kept their positions. 



98 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

And the sight of the camp-fires on Mount 
St. Jean set his mind at rest. 

11 At eight o'clock he mounted his 
horse, ready for battle. But not until 
eleven o'clock could his troops occupy 
their designated positions, because they 
were obliged to wait for the thoroughly 
drenched and slippery ground to dry a 
little. For the Germans, who now were 
at Wavre, Napoleon seemed to have no 
fear; his only thought was of the English 
there before him. 

" About half-past eleven sounded the 
first shot. Napoleon was over there on 
the little hill near the farm of Ronsomme. 
He ordered straw put on the ground and 
a table and a chair brought him. In this 
improvised camp, with his maps and 
glasses, the Emperor could see the whole 
battle-field. The encounter was terrible. 
Later, when you are older, you will be 
better able to understand the movements 
of the troops ; but now I shall not ex- 
plain them. At any rate, by six o'clock 



MY FATHERS STORY OF WATERLOO 99 

in the evening the battle was still unde- 
cided. 

" And now from the east shots could 
be heard. What army was that? Was it 
the thirty-five thousand Frenchmen un- 
der Grouchy, ready to attack the flanks 
of the tired English army ? It was the 
Germans under Bliicher ! 

" A last fight, a butchery of men ! At 
nine o'clock the French army was des- 
troyed. In the most terrible disorder the 
surviving were fleeing on the way to 
Genappe. The way was blocked by can- 
nons, chariots, ambulance-vans filled 
with the wounded and the dying. Ah ! 
It must have looked horrible on that 
night, this region that is so peaceful to-day. 

" Napoleon, with his wounded brother, 
Jerome, and some of his staff officers, 
were fighting to the death in the last 
carrt; but his followers drew him on 
with them over blood-drenched fields, 
where the harvests were downtrodden 
and strewn with wounded and dying 



100 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

men. A half hour after midnight they 
reached Genappe, where they hoped to 
find a coach for the Emperor, but the 
pursuing Germans were there before 
them. Bareheaded and without weapons, 
Napoleon threw himself upon his horse. 

" Away, away, because the Germans 
gave no quarter ! Before morning Na- 
poleon rode as far as Charleroix. Three 
days later he reached Paris, sick and dis- 
couraged. From Paris Napoleon went to 
Roehefort, where he boarded an English 
vessel as a prisoner. You know his end at 
St. Helena. 

" More than seventy thousand men 
were killed here in that Battle of Water- 
loo. When you see these fields now, you 
would scarcely believe that so many men 
died here." 

This account of my father's made a 
deep impression, and to this day his 
words stand vividly in my mind. 

Waterloo was the end of our trip, and 
from there we came home. 




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CHAPTER XIV 

A NEW STAKT IN ANTWERP 

Now a new life began for me. I had 
to work ; schoolboy life was behind me, 
and I must shoulder the responsibilities 
of life. How soon I was to feel all the 
weight of it ! The business in which my 
poor father was struggling along went 
from bad to worse ; and his cares became 
too much for him. When I was only 
sixteen, my father died, and I was left 
alone with my mother and my little 
sister. These were sad days for us, and I 
had to show all the manly spirit I pos- 
sessed to keep up our courage. 

For another year I tried to carry my 
father's unfortunate business, but I saw 
that there was no chance for me to ever 
get ahead. So one day I had a long talk 
with Mother. I wanted to sell every- 
thing we had — business, furniture, and 

101 



102 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

all— and go to Antwerp, where some 
friends of mine lived, and where I felt I 
would be better able to provide for those 
who were dear to me. My mother was 
willing enough to let me do as I wished, 
but she was afraid of the future. I was 
so young, and it was such a big step for 
her to leave the city where she had been 
born. 

Nevertheless, after some weeks, we 
made the decision to go to Antwerp ! I 
was delighted at the prospect and the 
days passed rapidly, while I was realizing 
my dream. And the day came at last 
when we left Roulers. Before our de- 
parture we had visited all our friends, 
and everybody had wished us good luck. 
I had been to see the priest of our church, 
who was also president of the Catholic As- 
sociation for young men of which I was a 
member. He had given me much good 
advice, and had strongly recommended 
me to become a member of the Catholic 
Association at Antwerp. 



A NEW START IN ANTWERP 103 

Well, Mother, Sister and I settled in 
one of the suburbs of Antwerp, and after 
a few days I found employment in a can- 
ning factory there. My Antwerp friends 
lived in a different suburb, so I did not 
see much of them, after all. In fact I 
did not know anybody, and for several 
months I felt lost in the big city. My 
only pleasure was my work, in which I 
was getting on satisfactorily. 

I was eighteen when my employer one 
day sent me to investigate a complaint 
made by a customer living in a neighbor- 
ing village. To reach this place I had to 
take an electric car, and what should I 
happen to see therein ? On a small card 
pinned to the wall of the car was printed 
an invitation to all young men to join 
the Christian Association, which met 
every Thursday and Sunday evening at a 
certain address in the Rue Conscience. 
I was glad to learn this address, because 
I had kept in mind the recommendation 
given me by the priest at Roulers to join 



104 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

the Catholic Young Men's Association at 
Antwerp. I therefore made a note of the 
address, and I decided at once to go to 
the meeting next Thursday. 

But let me tell you my experience 
with the customer who had complained. 
He was an irritable old man, and he 
certainly had reason enough to complain 
now ; a large box of canned peas which 
our firm had sent him had made no end 
of trouble for him. The case had arrived 
on the morning of the previous Saturday, 
and judging by the labels that the goods 
were what he had ordered of us, he had 
sold many cans during Saturday after- 
noon. 

And what had happened now ? Early 
the following Monday angry customers 
had been bringing back opened cans, 
which contained no peas at all, but 
tomato soup ! To me the matter was 
simple enough : somewhere in the label- 
ling department a mistake had been 
made, and this case of soup, destined for 



A NEW START IN ANTWERP 105 

another customer, had been labelled peas. 
Perhaps the customer who had wanted 
the soup was having the same kind of 
trouble with his case of wrongly labelled 
peas. 

It was a hard task for me to pacify 
the old man, but in the end I succeeded. 
And I explained to him so vividly about 
the other different vegetables which we 
preserved in the canning factory that 
not only did I prevail upon him to keep 
the tomatoes, but he gave me a large order 
for several new lines of preserved goods. 

When I returned to the factory, I told 
the whole story to my employer. After 
I had finished my recital, he said : 

" Robert, how old are you ? " 

11 Eighteen." 

11 Well, never mind," he replied, " you 
are old enough. From to-day you are 
one of our travelling salesmen." 

That promotion doubled my salary. 
You can imagine how eagerly I rushed 
home that night to tell Mother, and 



106 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

how proud and joyous Mother was at the 
news. 

But next Thursday evening I did not 
forget to go to the Christian Association. 
I was happy at the thought of again meet- 
ing boys of my own age, and of fulfilling 
my promise to the priest at Roulers to 
become a member of the association at 
Antwerp. 

At half-past seven I was in the Rue 
Conscience. I was puzzled by the en- 
trance of the building, because the place 
was not as big as I had expected, and also 
because I saw so few boys entering. In 
the hall I spoke to the Secretary, who 
was a friendly man. He asked me some 
questions about where I was born, where 
I lived, and what I was doing, and he 
told me that I was welcome among them. 
He also gave me a little book containing 
the rules of the association, and said that 
at eight o'clock they were going to hold a 
meeting, which I could attend if I wished. 

I accepted at once. What I had ex- 



A NEW START IN ANTWERP 107 

pected, however, did not materialize. At 
Roulers these evening meetings always 
were devoted to various kinds of games 
and amusements, such as billiards, cards, 
draughts, and chess. But what was this ? 
About a dozen boys were seated around 
a table in the room I entered, and a white- 
haired gentleman, to whom I was intro- 
duced, was presiding. I took my seat at 
the table, and was given a 'Bible : I never 
had had one in my hands before. The 
meeting began with a prayer. Then the 
President read a chapter from the Gospel 
of St. John, and explained it to us. All 
the time I was wondering ! Everything 
was so new to me ; to be sure, the lesson 
was about Jesus, but how different it 
sounded from the lessons that I had pre- 
viously learned ! And that the words of 
the President were all true I could feel 
in my innermost heart. 

I went home and told Mother about 
the meeting. She could not understand 
it, either ; but she said she did not see 



108 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

any harm in my going there. As long 
as I was with men and boys speaking 
about Jesus, no harm would befall me 
there, she told me. 

But the next day on the train, when I 
was going to Malines to visit some 
customers of the firm, I found time to 
read through the little book which the 
Secretary had given me. Now I under- 
stood. It was not a Catholic Association 
but a Protestant Y. M. C. A. I could 
not go there any more, I decided ; and 
as soon as I had time that day, I wrote 
a letter to the Secretary, thanking him 
for his kindness in admitting me to the 
meeting the evening before, but telling 
him that since I was a Catholic, which 
he surely could not have known, nat- 
urally they would not want me any more 
among them. 

On the following evening the Secretary 
came to my home, and had a long talk 
with Mother and me. Yes, he had under- 
stood from the first that I was a Catholic ; 




Q 

H 

H 

H 

o 

Ph 
«4 



A NEW START IN ANTWERP 109 

but did I not want to come again ? Had 
I seen anything wrong at the meeting? 
Had the other boys made any objection 
to me because I was a Catholic ? But if 
I liked to come, why should I not do so, 
for a little while, at least ? If after some 
more meetings I wished to stay away, I 
was a free man in a free country, and 
surely they could not prevent me from 
staying away. 

Well, Mother only repeated what she 
had already said to me, that as long as 
people at the Y. M. C. A. spoke about 
Jesus, no harm could come of it. So I 
promised the Secretary that I would go 
again. 

And I did attend the meetings as often 
as I could. This step was a turning 
point in my religious beliefs. 



CHAPTER XV 

SOME BUSINESS EXPERIENCES 

A travelling salesman in Belgium 
has a great many facilities for travel- 
ling by rail which can be had only in 
such a small country as ours. Belgium 
is densely threaded with railways, all 
owned by the State. As a matter of 
fact, Belgium has more railways in com- 
parison to its size than any other country 
in the world. The country is so small 
that I could leave home each morning on 
the train for some city in the provinces, 
do my business there, and be home the 
same evening ; only in exceptional cases 
did I have to go to the hotel for the 
night. 

But your travelling expenses must be 

very high, when you use the trains so 

much, I hear you say, but that is not so. 

The government issues special railway- 

110 



SOME BUSINESS EXPEBIENCES 111 

tickets, which are valid for a whole year, 
and which allow you to travel on all 
trains to any distance as often as you 
please. Such a railroad pass costs ex- 
actly three hundred and sixty francs, 
or less than seventy-five dollars, for a 
whole year ; not quite twenty cents a day. 
Just think of it ! I often travelled two 
hundred miles in a whole day, and my 
trip would cost less than twenty cents. 

That our money is different from yours, 
you know. Our smallest coin is called a 
centime, but the value is only one-fifth 
of one United States cent; in other 
words, one hundred and twenty-five 
Belgian centimes is only one quarter 
of a United States dollar. Our measures 
and weights are also different ; we use 
the metric system, that is, grams, deci- 
grams, hectograms, and kilos, in weight. 
One kilo is a little more than two pounds 
avoirdupois ; to be more exact, one hun- 
dred and twelve English pounds equal 
fifty Belgian kilos. 



112 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

I had my troubles while travelling ; 
but I enjoyed many experiences, and my 
customers became my friends. The hard- 
est customer I ever had was a man at 
Ghent. I had been to his store perhaps 
a dozen times, and I could not even get 
a word with him, for he would wave his 
hand at me as soon as I opened the door, 
signifying that he did not want anything. 
I could not even bring him to explain 
why he did not want to trade with us. 

One day, while he was waving his 
hand, as usual, to send me away, I 
walked into the store and up to the 
counter behind which he was standing, 
and said : 

" Give me a kilo of your best coffee." 

And then his tongue became loosened. 
Had I come to live in the neighborhood ? 
Did I no longer travel for my firm of 
dealers in canned vegetables and so on ? 

I did not give him a direct answer, 
but letting him take an affirmative an- 
swer for granted, I inquired : 



SOME BUSINESS EXPERIENCES 113 

11 Mr. Vercammen, tell me now, why 
did you never want to buy any of my 
goods when I came to sell them? " 

" I was told that they were no good," 
he answered. 

" Well, that is singular," I replied. 
" I just met a friend of mine, who 
told me you sold the worst coffee in the 
city." 

You should have seen that man's 
temper flare. What, his coffee no good? 
It was the best in the city ; he sold only 
the best goods. His store was noted for 
that fact, and if his coffee was so bad, 
why did I buy it there ? 

11 Exactly, why do I buy it here ? " I 
repeated. " Because I want to find out if 
what that fellow said was true. I do not 
believe everything that is told me, I want 
to find out myself. It is the same thing 
with our preserves : you have been told 
they were no good, but you are now go- 
ing to give a trial order, and find out for 
yourself if that is true." 



114 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

Mr. Vercammen saw the point, gave 
me a small trial order, and became one 
of my best customers. 

Once I met in the train the traveller 
for another firm dealing in canned goods, 
and all the way home he sat boasting of 
the large orders he had taken that day, 
of the bigness of his firm, of the superi- 
ority of their goods over ours, and so on. 
As a last straw, he told me that his firm 
had received a big order to be exported 
to the Congo. The next day they were 
going to have driven through the princi- 
pal streets of Antwerp ten huge wagons 
laden with the cases for that Congo order, 
and decorated with posters telling about 
their goods. That would be a sensational 
advertisement ; I had better stay at Ant- 
werp next day to see the fun. 

He had annoyed me all the way with 
his brag, and when I arrived at the office, 
I went at once to see the " boss," and told 
him about the wagons and about a certain 
little plan I had just conceived. When 



SOME BUSINESS EXPERIENCES 115 

he heard about it, he gave me a free hand 
to do as I liked. 

On the next day about twelve o'clock, 
when the streets were packed with peo- 
ple, surely enough, the ten big vans came 
from the factory of our competitor, which 
I had been watching. As long as they 
were in the factory district of the city, I 
did not do anything ; but once they reached 
the Meir, that is, the main street, twenty 
workmen from our factory appeared, 
each one with a big poster on a board. 
Two men walked by each wagon, one on 
each side. On our posters was printed in 
red, flaring letters this advertisement : 

We do not need to send our goods 
to Africa. 

We cannot make enough for home 
trade. 

Our goods are appreciated right 
here, not in africa. 

The name of our firm was under these 
statements. And the people laughed and 



116 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

laughed. It was one of our best adver- 
tisements, and it did not cost us much. 

There was one representative of another 
firm who always impressed me very 
much. He was a big man about forty 
years old, who went to the best hotels for 
dinner, and who would never ride in an 
electric car but took a taxi-cab, or, in the 
smaller cities, a carriage, to visit his cus- 
tomers. He and I sold the same line of 
goods, and I felt that I had little chance 
to do any business, when he was in the 
vicinity. I was only a mere boy, and he 
looked down upon me as if I were dust 
in the street. 

One of our regular customers at Bruges 
had written to our firm that he needed 
some goods, but before giving his order 
he wanted especially low quotations. I 
was sent to interview him, and whom 
should I see, when I descended from the 
train at Bruges, but my big competitor 
going out of the station ? 

Instinctively I realized that we were 



SOME BUSINESS EXPERIENCES 117 

on the same errand, and I felt that my 
chances were small, if he was first with 
my customer. Yet what could I do ? I 
saw him step into the only carriage which 
was to be had, and now he would surely 
be there before me. 

But no ! As the carriage moved away, 
I hopped on the back spring of the car- 
riage and there I sat, like any little boy 
" hooking " a ride. You should have 
seen me sitting there, with my back 
against the carriage, doing my very best 
to keep my equilibrium. 

We arrived safely, and while my big 
friend stepped out of the carriage and 
leisurely paid the cabman, I walked 
briskly into the office, found my cus- 
tomer, and booked the order. 

Perhaps it was not quite right to obtain 
a ride at the expense of another and then 
get an order away from him, but I was 
young, eager to advance my employer's 
interests, and had often been unfairly 
treated by my large competitor. 



CHAPTER XVI 

HAPPY YEAKS 

And now time sped on. I was a 
traveller, a full-fledged business man, 
and I was not nineteen years old. Next 
year was only to be my " lottery year." 
Since that time the law of compulsory 
military service has been changed, and 
every boy in Belgium must become a 
soldier when he is twenty years old. 
But fifteen years ago, when I was twenty, 
only about fifty boys out of each hundred 
had to enter the army, and these fifty 
were drawn for the service. If you drew 
a high number, you were exempt from 
all military service, but if you drew a 
low number, it meant service for three 
years. 

As the time for the lottery approached, 

we lived through anxious days at home. 

118 



HAPPY YEARS 119 

If I had to become a soldier, what would 
happen to Mother and Sister? How 
could they live without my support for 
three long years ? 

But we were anxious without reason, 
because when the actual day for conscrip- 
tion arrived, I drew one of the highest 
numbers. Picture for yourself with what 
joy I let my pigeon fly home with the 
lucky number attached to his foot, and 
how glad Mother felt when that prompt 
messenger of good tidings brought her 
the news ! 

I kept several carrier-pigeons at home 
for my amusement. I would often take 
a couple of them with me on a trip, and 
when miles away, I would let them fly 
home with a greeting for Mother and 
Sister. 

Now the pigeon had brought a better 
message than ever before. 

With this care off my shoulders, I 
worked harder under the canning firm 
than ever before. My business route 



120 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

now comprised two provinces, and nearly 
every fortnight I went to my home town, 
Roulers, where I renewed acquaintance 
with many friends of my boyhood. 

I was glad now that I had made the 
decision to go to Antwerp when I did. 
But it had not all been plain sailing. 
There were many days when it was a 
hard fight to get any orders for my 
goods, and often enough the idea would 
come to me that other work was easier 
and better paid. But then Mother re- 
minded me : 

" Robert, better a bird in the hand 
than three in the sky." 

So I stuck to my work, and became 
more and more successful. 

When I was twenty-two years old, I 
met in the train a man whom I had 
known while we lived in Roulers, but to 
whom I had never spoken. He was a 
pleasant man, and we had quite a chat 
together on all kinds of topics. When 
we separated at the station he told me 



HAPPY YEARS 121 

to come to his home the next time I was 
at Roulers. 

This I did about a week later ; as I had 
to stay over the night on that trip, I was 
glad of the opportunity to spend the 
evening out of the hotel. I had supper 
with his family, and after supper we 
spoke about religious matters, and it 
developed that this man was a Protestant. 
And I, who had lived so many years in 
the same small town, did not fully know, 
then, what a Protestant was. 

Let me cut things short. I went again 
and again to his house, and after a while 
I did not go to see him, but one of his 
daughters. 

A year later I was married. 

About this time I saw an opening to 
begin business for myself, and I built 
a small factory in a town near Antwerp, 
called Contich. There I manufactured 
jelly-powders, cake-flour, custard-pow- 
ders, and several other articles carried 
by grocers. 



122 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

The business acquaintances that I had 
formed while travelling for my Antwerp 
employer now stood me in good stead ; 
in fact, they were my biggest asset. All 
the grocers to whom I had been selling 
goods for several years had become my 
friends, and when I told them that I 
was starting in business for myself, they 
were all glad to help me by giving me 
orders. 

I well remember my first order. My 
wife, my mother, and myself packed the 
goods between us ; and I put them into 
the boxes and mailed them. I had only 
a very little money to start with, so I had 
to travel to get orders in the daytime 
and to prepare each day's orders that 
night, in order that the goods could be 
shipped next day. It was strenuous work, 
but what did I care ? Was I not in busi- 
ness for myself now, was I not mar- 
ried, and were we not all happy together? 
Mother lived in a small house with Sister 
not far from where my wife and I were 



HAPPY YEARS 123 

living, and my mother came to help us 
each day. 

Soon our children arrived ; first Mar- 
garet, then Anneke and the next year, 
Henry, and the year after that, Robert. 
After we had been married ten years we 
had seven children. Walter, Lieseken, 
and Martha were the last three. 

My business had grown with the chil- 
dren. I had built a good-sized factory ; 
I employed twenty-two workmen ; and I 
had two young Germans selling my goods 
on the road. My own hands were full 
with the office work. I had also bought 
a fine house in Contich. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE OUTBKEAK OF THE WAR 

This was my life until the fateful year, 
1914, was reached. We were happy at 
home, and I can say with truth that all 
the people in Belgium were happy. They 
were a quiet, industrious folk, transacting 
business from all over the world, welcom- 
ing the citizens of all nations, and being 
friends with all men. 

That the Germans also were our friends 
before the war, everybody knows. Just 
think that at Brussels more than eight 
thousand Germans lived, at Antwerp 
more than fifteen thousand, and so it 
was all over Belgium. We were glad to 
have them in our midst, and had learned 
to appreciate their perseverance and busi- 
ness ability. 

When at the end of July, therefore, 
124 



THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR 125 

rumors of war were spreading, when a 
wave of seeming madness swept over 
Europe, all of us in Belgium were quiet, 
and felt that if war should come, we, at 
least, as in the seventies, would have 
nothing to do with it. Were not all 
nations our friends, and had not all these 
friends given their solemn word that Bel- 
gium was a neutral country, and that 
they would for all time respect that 
neutrality ? 

And then came the crash, the thun- 
derbolt. Germany declares war upon us, 
because we keep our given word ! Do 
you feel that thrill of indignation which 
went through all of us? Do you wonder 
at the refusal of our glorious King to 
accept the Kaiser's proposition? King 
Albert knows his people ; he knows that 
his soldiers will fight as heroes to the 
last man ; that Belgium may be overrun 
by the enemy, but that it never will be 
conquered. 

To understand the love of the Belgians 



126 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

for their King, Queen, and Princes, you 
must realize the love of the King for his 
people, — a love which has been evident 
in all the circumstances of his reign. Did 
the King and Queen not always help 
when there was distress? In 1912 the 
dykes broke through near Antwerp, and 
the Scheldt River flooded a long stretch 
of territory, causing disaster to many of 
my countrymen. The calamity happened 
during the night of the autumnal equi- 
nox, and early the next morning the 
King was there, directing the work of 
salvation, while the Queen was speaking 
consoling words to the mothers and 
children. 

How the Queen's heart must bleed now ! 
She is a Bavarian princess, and all the 
members of her own family are fighting 
against the country of which she is Queen. 
Since Liege she has worn a simple mourn- 
ing dress without a single ornament ; she 
has been at work each day in the Red 
Cross hospitals, helping everywhere, wash- 



THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR 127 

ing with her own royal hands the bleeding 
feet of the soldiers. She now is called 
" Mother " by our soldiers, and she may 
be proud of that name. Think of it, is 
there any honor more to be desired by a 
queen than to be called the mother of her 
people ? 

But the horror and the pity of it all ! 
Let me tell you a little of what war means 
by relating the experience of a Brussels 
family. A friend of mine, the minister 
of the Evangelical Church at Brussels, 
has a son of twenty. This boy was a sol- 
dier in the Belgian army ; he fought in 
the trenches at Liege, he was in the bat- 
tles of Diest and Louvain, and at last, with 
the rest of the army, he was driven back 
to Antwerp. 

Just before Antwerp was attacked, I 
received a letter from his father telling 
me that for weeks he had not had word 
from his son, and that he himself could 
not get through the German lines. He 
wondered if I could go to make a search 



128 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

for his son in the Fifth Infantry Regi- 
ment. 

Of course I tried at once to locate the 
boy, and finally learned that the Fifth 
Regiment was at the fort of Wavre St. 
Catherine, only six miles from where we 
lived. So I set out that very morning. 
It was a long walk, and the booming of 
the German cannons in the south never 
ceased. That Monday the Germans were 
attacking Lierre and Duffel, and the 
farther I went, the more did I realize how 
terrible this war was. 

The road was swarming with fugitives : 
it was a never-to-be-forgotten sight to 
watch these poor people trying to get 
away, all staggering under loads of such 
things as they could take away with them 
in their haste. I saw old men pushing 
carts laden with children ; young women, 
many of them carrying young babies in 
their arms ; and old women with shuffling 
feet. 

In the ditch by the side of the road sat 




I 



WBBBM^mm 



THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR 129 

a young girl ; she may have been twenty, 
not over. She held a tiny baby pressed 
against her breast, and she looked so de- 
jected that I spoke to her. She came 
from Lierre, more than nine miles away, 
she told me ; her baby had been born 
the day before her soldier-husband had 
been killed at Namur. It was a warm 
day, but she felt cold. A peasant with a 
three-wheeled cart, drawn by a cow, hap- 
pened by, and he helped me to put the 
young woman and her child on top of 
the furniture on his cart. And so they 
went away, I wonder where. 

But to return to my search for my 
friend's son. I did not find him at the 
fort. His comrades told me that he had 
been wounded in the battle of Eppeghem, 
and that he must now be in the hospital at 
Boom. It was another long walk, but I 
wanted to see the boy ; and so on I went 
to Boom, until I came to the hospital, 
a big house with many Red Cross flags on 
top. 



130 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

And here I found Paul in bed. A piece 
of shrapnel had struck him in the back, 
and his spinal column was broken. He 
could not speak ; he could not move ; only 
his eyes were eloquent, and they burned 
like two fires. When I spoke to him of 
his mother, of his father, and of home, I 
saw one single tear come into his eyes, 
and I could understand his thirsty long- 
ing to see once more the faces of these 
dear-beloved ones, and to forget the awful 
horror of battle. And he could not say 
a word. 

Oh ! the pity of it all ! For there were 
so many other young men in that big 
white room — all badly wounded, some 
with arms gone, some with half a face 
blown away. They, too, had mothers; 
some had wives and children. Oh, the 
deadly quietness of such a hospital room ! 
Where is Paul now ? Does he still live, 
and will my friends ever see their son 
again ? 

But let us leave the warriors alone and 



THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR 131 

see how the civilians fared. When the 
war began, all business came to a stand- 
still. The railways were in the hands 
of the military authorities, and trans- 
portation was to be had only for the 
troops. Travelling by rail was either 
totally impossible, or else it took a 
whole day to go fifteen or twenty miles. 
Transportation of food, coal, and all 
other industrial products was entirely 
out of the question, unless the things 
were for the army. All private busi- 
ness was put aside. The army and the 
defense of the mother-land was now the 
only object of the nation. Remember 
that this was at the outset of the war, 
when the Germans were still counting 
their dead before Li&ge. 

As a consequence of these conditions, 
practically all the working people could 
not earn a penny after the beginning of 
the war. What this means in a coun- 
try of low wages, — where in times of peace 
the wages vary between forty and eighty 



132 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

cents a day, — any thrifty mother will 
understand. We are of a country where 
we still hold the old belief that chil- 
dren are given us as a blessing ; nearly 
all the families have three or four chil- 
dren, and those with seven to twelve 
children are not at all uncommon. 

All these small wage-earners were 
in need of help from the first days of the 
war ; there were municipal kitchens in 
every city and village of Belgium, where 
the poor could get two pounds of bread 
in the morning and a large bowl of bean 
soup at noon. I will not tell you the 
length of the lines of waiting men and 
women at these places; you would tax 
me with exaggeration. 

And then came that fleeing from one 
village to another, seeking safety which 
was not be found anywhere ! 



CHAPTER XVIII 

OUR MARCH FROM CONTICH TO ANTWERP 

But, I hear you say, " How about your 
own family ? " 

When we left our village of Contich, 
which lies between Antwerp and Malines, 
the heavy German artillery was booming 
all day long. For weeks preparations 
had been made to defend Antwerp 
bravely. The forts were ready : barbed 
wire was laid everywhere ; deep trenches 
were dug between the forts, and all the 
houses, trees — everything — for half a mile 
in front of the forts were cut away and 
destroyed, so that there was nothing left 
but an open field, where the enemy could 
find no shelter for their attack. 

Although it was in the heart of all the 
soldiers to defend the city to the last man, 
we knew that if a German attack should 

133 



134 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

come, we should not be able to hold the 
city. Our field army, which was to de- 
fend the trenches, was tired to death. 
Since Liege its men had been constantly 
in the field ; in fact nearly all of the 
soldiers had been in ten battles. And 
it is a nerve-destroying thing to know 
that however hard you fight, you can- 
not hold out in the end against the 
overwhelming masses of the enemy. 
In all the battles where they have 
fought, the Belgians have shown that 
they fight without fear and with a 
courage indescribable ; but after each 
seemingly victorious battle, they have 
had to retreat the next day. 

From the first week at LiSge, we knew 
that we could not stand alone, that if the 
advance of the Kaiser's troops was to be 
checked, help must come. Each day 
help had been promised to our soldiers ; 
and each day they fought more fiercely 
for the independence of our dearly loved 
Belgium. But when week after week 




Wounded Belgian Soldier telling his Children of the 
Thrilling Fight with the Germans at Liege. 



FROM CON TIC H TO ANTWERP 135 

they had to fight alone, when no 
French or British troops came to help 
them repulse the Germans, the knowl- 
edge of having an impossible task to 
perform took the heart out of our 
soldiers. 

I was at home that fateful Monday, 
when exactly at eight o'clock in the 
morning the first heavy boom was heard 
in the distance. The German attack 
upon Antwerp and upon the fort of 
Waelhem had begun. And on it kept 
throughout the whole day, two boomings 
every minute. We were quite at ease, 
nevertheless, because we felt so sure that 
it would be a long time before these forts 
would be destroyed, and by that time the 
oft-promised help from England would 
surely have come. Therefore, when at 
night the cannonading ceased, we spoke 
of the attack lightly. We did not be- 
lieve that the Germans would use their 
guns again ; we supposed that this at- 
tack had been only a feint, and that 



136 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

our forts of Waelhem and Wavre St. 
Catherine had caused them heavy losses 
that day. 

But the next morning we were thrown 
out of bed. At six o'clock the firing 
had started again, and this time it 
sounded much louder and nearer. Oh, 
that awful Tuesday, when the first cupola 
of the fort Waelhem was smashed by the 
heavy shells from the German guns, shall 
I ever forget it ? That never-ending line 
of Red Cross automobiles, carrying the 
wounded Belgian soldiers, the pitiful 
groans coming from the powder-black- 
ened lips, the dreadful sight of the poor 
boys with atrocious wounds, — limbs, feet, 
noses gone, — oh, it was horrible ! Those 
moans will always resound in my ears. 

And when the evening came again, 
and the people gathered in the streets, ac- 
cording to their custom since the war be- 
gan, to talk over the ever new topic of the 
day's events, the ease and tranquillity of 
the day before were gone. We knew that 



FROM CONTICH TO ANTWERP 137 

once the forts were taken, the end would 
soon come, unless England or France 
came to our aid. And we also knew 
that they had their hands full. 

Another morning, and Wednesday 
came. The attack was raging every- 
where now : Waelhem, Willebroeck, 
Lierre, Duffel — all the forts — were belch- 
ing fire. We did not sleep much that 
night, for another song had startled us, — 
the clack, clack, clack of the machine- 
guns. We realized that the fight was at 
closer quarters now. 

In the morning we saw that awful pro- 
cession on the road again, peasants with 
furniture-carts, men wheeling bicycles 
laden with two sacks of clothes, one 
hanging on each side, women crying, 
children weeping, — an endless procession 
of misery. Duffel is on fire, Waerloos is 
shelled, Lierre is on fire. When is Con- 
tich's time coming ? 

I had not long to wait for the answer. 
I was at the outskirts of the village when 



138 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

I saw the first big shell explode with a 
noise like a train running at full speed. 
The pieces struck the ground about one 
hundred and fifty yards from where I 
was standing. The crash was terrific. 
We had crouched instinctively ; and our 
eyes were blinded as if by lightning. 
And then the whole village began to 
run. 

With the German cannon in the south 
and east spreading ruin and destruction 
and with the Scheldt to be crossed in the 
west, the only way open to us was at the 
north. This was in the direction of 
Antwerp and Holland. 

That tramp along the ten long miles of 
road leading from Contich to Antwerp, 
where I hoped to be safe, can you im- 
agine what it was like ? Just think of 
shells falling behind us ; think of that 
long, dusty road jammed with carts and 
cows, with people, young and old, all going 
the same way to the north, with army 
automobiles rushing past in the middle 



FROM CONTICH TO ANTWERP 139 

of the road to Antwerp, and horsemen, 
soldiers, and cannons travelling south. 
Let your imagination paint for you all 
that indescribable chaos of vehicles and 
men. 

Now imagine that you have five chil- 
dren with you, the oldest only ten years, 
the others seven, three, and two, and 
that you carry the youngest, a baby of 
nine months, in your arms ; and then 
take that ten-mile tramp with us. 

Is it to be wondered that children 
were lost, that wives were left exhausted 
by the roadside, and that endless mis- 
eries were suffered in such a flight? We 
had formerly watched this wretched pro- 
cession ; we had looked on for many 
days when the citizens of the villages 
farther south had been fleeing. But 
now we were on the road ourselves, 
driven from our homes like sheep going 
to the market ! 

When we started, I knew that this long 
march could never be accomplished in 



140 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

one stretch, but that if we were to keep 
together, and reach our goal at all, we 
must not hurry, but must take our time. 
Every fifteen or twenty minutes, there- 
fore, or as soon as the children told us 
that they were tired, I called a halt. We 
did not listen to our neighbors 7 urging us 
to go on, but quietly squatted down in 
the ditch by the roadside, petting the 
children. In their innocence, the chil- 
dren made fun of the never-ceasing boom- 
ing of the big guns, which now made a 
louder noise for them than the fireworks 
at the village fair. 

Then after a while we would march on 
along the road, through other villages, 
Edeghem, Bouchout, Vremde, where the 
inhabitants looked with commiseration. 
They felt safe enough that day, but they 
were waiting, as we had waited, for the 
fatal hour, when they also would have to 
flee from the coming horrors. 

Should you ask me how long it took 
us to reach Antwerp, I could never tell 




05 «8 



s 



s 



FROM CONTIGH TO ANTWERP 141 

you. We left Contich in the morning, 
and now it was as pitch-dark as only a city 
can be where all lights are extinguished 
at eight o'clock in the evening, and where 
with the dark all activity stops. 

We slept that night in an empty room 
of a house in the Rue Br6derode. We 
had no beds, we had eaten nothing since 
the morning, but we were grateful for 
the shelter. We just fell down and slept. 
If you do not sleep well at night, just try 
a ten-mile walk on an empty stomach, 
with a baby in your arms and two other 
children clinging to your coat. You will 
sleep well after that ! 



CHAPTER XIX 

OUR FLIGHT FROM ANTWERP 

And so passed the next few days, with 
good tidings every morning and bad tid- 
ings every evening, with that anxious 
waiting for news and for the morning 
and evening papers ; extra editions were 
not allowed. It was a terribly long week. 

Then came the visit of Lord Churchill 
and the promise that the British troops 
would soon be in Belgium to help. There 
was joy again. 

But each day the outlook was worse. 
The German troops had taken Waelhem. 
Now they had crossed the River Nethe at 
Lierre, and were advancing on Antwerp. 

They had not crossed the river without 

a struggle. It took them a whole day to 

get the first man over, and the river was 

filled with the bodies of their soldiers. 

142 



OUR FLIGHT FROM ANTWERP 143 

That night at Ruppelmonde, where the 
Nethe flows into the Scheldt, the stream 
of blood tinted the sandy, yellow waters 
of the Scheldt with long red streaks. 

But the end would soon come. A proc- 
lamation from the governor, stating that 
the city would be shelled within twenty- 
four hours, was on the walls, as a warn- 
ing to all those who wished to flee. The 
way to the north was still open. Those 
who did not want to leave the city must 
take to their cellars with food and drink 
for five days. 

And the people fled. That day two 
hundred thousand citizens, at least, left 
the city, all going to the north, some in 
boats from the river piers, most of them 
on foot. 

We wished to stay another day, for it 
was no use to try to keep together in 
these thronged masses of escaping people. 
We had made our preparations for the 
night ; we had fitted the cellar comfort- 
ably with straw ; we had bedclothes for 



144 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

the children, and food, water, and can- 
dles. It was fun that night to go to bed 
in the cellar; this ever-changing mode 
of living was a continuous treat for our 
children. 

It was a short night, and with the first 
glimmer of dawn came the report of the 
first shell bursting over the city. The 
street where we were staying is situated 
in the southern part of the city, and 
nearly all the shells fell there. The 
morning wore on, and although from 
time to time we heard the sound of feet 
rushing past the house and of shells burst- 
ing not so very far away, we kept to our 
cellar like rats in a hole. 

At first the shells burst only occasion- 
ally, but later in the day the intervals 
between explosions were shorter. 

In the Rue Br6derode and in the ad- 
joining Rue Anselmo there were many 
citizens who had taken to their cellars. 
About noon there came a cry, " Fire ! 
Fire ! " I went to the front door, and 



OUR FLIGHT FROM ANTWERP 145 

saw the street filled with smoke, and the 
houses at the end of the street on fire. 

That was the end of our stay in the 
cellar. We crept out, and followed the 
other running citizens. As if the houses 
could be any protection, everybody kept 
close to the walls. 

It was a tedious walk, with many stops. 
The whole southern part of the city was 
on fire ; dense black smoke, coming from 
the burning oil-tanks, overhung the whole 
city ; and all the time the shells kept on 
bursting right and left, tearing holes in 
the houses, and crumbling the walls to 
pieces. 

That we ever reached the pontoon 
wharf at the Scheldt seems a wonder 
now. The pontoon wharf was packed 
full with people who all wanted to get 
away by tugs and other small river craft 
sailing for Holland. 

After more than three hours of waiting 
we were crammed standing, with over a 
thousand others, into the hold of a coal- 



146 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

barge. A cry of hope went up when at 
length we felt the barge move on. All 
that we could see from the port-holes was 
a piece of the sky, for the holds of these 
coal-barges are more than twelve feet 
deep. 

It was night when we landed at Hans- 
weert among thousands and thousands of 
other refugees. Hansweert is only a tiny 
village, and no accommodation was to be 
had anywhere that night. Yet again we 
could only thank God for our preserva- 
tion and for the help He had granted us. 

We walked on to Vlake, only a short 
distance away, and found a train in the 
station. There was no question of buy- 
ing tickets ; everybody could travel free 
in those days. We boarded the train and 
three hours later we were at Rotterdam. 

I must not forget to thank the kind 
women at the way-station of Roesendael 
who gave us bottles of milk for our 
children and sea-biscuits for ourselves. 
Neither can I forget that young mother 




H 
O 



ft 



OUR FLIGHT FROM ANTWERP 147 

on the train with an apparently sleeping 
baby in her arms. During the whole 
long ride she did not say a word, but 
kept looking at her child. Not until we 
were nearing Rotterdam did we see that 
her child was dead. 

At Rotterdam more than one hundred 
thousand refugees had already received 
accommodation, and there were no more 
lodgings to be had. So we were sent on 
to a neighboring village, Overschie, where 
we arrived in the early hours of the morn- 
ing. Our reception there was most cor- 
dial, and our worst trouble was now over. 



CHAPTER XX 

WE COME TO THE UNITED STATES 

At Overschie preparations had been 
made for the reception of the refugees, 
and there were one hundred and thirty- 
nine of us all together in a big barn, where 
we slept on straw. The food given us in 
the morning was good enough, but we 
could not stay long in such a situation 
with so many little children. 

On the next day more refugees came 
to Overschie, and as it happened, some 
people from our own village came. They 
had left Contich two days later than we 
had. From them we learned that two 
shells had burst through the roof of our 
house and left it in ruins : it was now 
only a tangled heap of stones, wood, 
glass, and broken furniture. The fac- 
tory was destroyed by fire, although they 

148 



WE COME TO THE UNITED STATES 149 

could not tell how this had happened. 
But only the four walls were now stand- 
ing. All these were Job's tidings for us. 
The work of many years was gone, and 
our hopes of building up a good business 
in Contich were shattered. 

At the beginning of the summer holi- 
days we had sent two of our children 
to England to visit a friend of ours in 
London. The war had come in the 
meantime, and Anneke and Henry were 
still at London, while we were refugees 
in Holland, all our earthly possessions 
gone. 

After much talking and deliberation, 
my wife and I came to the decision that 
the best thing we could do was to come 
to the United States, where my wife had 
a brother living. Mother, who feared 
the ocean trip, would go to England, 
and stay for a while with Anneke and 
Henry there, and join us in America the 
following summer. 

We had to stay at Overschie twelve 



150 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

days, until there was a boat sailing for 
America, and these twelve days there in 
the barn in the company of all these 
other refugees, with news coming from 
Belgium that Antwerp had fallen, and 
that the Germans were overrunning the 
whole country, were sad days ; and 
neither my wife nor I will ever forget 
them. 

Finally the steamer sailed. We left 
Holland at night, and no one on board 
dared to sleep that first night for fear 
we should strike a mine, as so many 
ships had done in the last few days. 
But happily this calamity did not oc- 
cur. We saw the British fleet when 
we passed through the Channel, and we 
were glad to see the last of the Scilly 
Islands the next day. It meant that the 
war was behind us, and that we should 
see a free and peaceful country within a 
few days. 

We landed in New York on the third 
of November after a rough passage of 



WE COME TO THE UNITED STATES 151 

fourteen days. We have been in this 
country four months now, and our re- 
ception has been most sympathetic every- 
where. All the people to whom I have 
spoken about the war have expressed 
admiration for the Belgians and their 
valorous King. 

We wondered at first to see everybody 
at work and business going on as usual. 
We had forgotten about that in the last 
months. And then to see all these men 
mingling together ; and to have only 
one class on the railway and the street 
cars, whereas in Europe we had two or 
three, or even four different classes of 
railway carriages, thus drawing a sharp 
line between men of different conditions. 
And here all are together, — the working 
man sitting on the same seat as the em- 
ployer. It is ideal liberty. 

But do you not go too far sometimes? 
Do you not misunderstand your own 
ideal of liberty and equality ? 

We had supper one night at the home 



152 WHEN I WAS A BOY IN BELGIUM 

of a family here with whom we have be- 
come friendly. These friends have only 
one child, a little daughter five years old. 
At supper her mother said to her : 

" Mary, will you please fetch me that 
book there on the chair ? " 

And the answer was : " Do it your- 
self!" 

At this retort her father burst out 
laughing, and the mother went herself 
to fetch the book. 

My heart and that of my wife were 
oppressed. We had held our breath at 
the answer of the child, waiting for the 
coming punishment, but it did not come ; 
and w^e understood then that these kind 
people were educating their child on a 
principle of absolute liberty. 

I would not speak of it now, if I 
thought that it was a single instance 
of American training. But in the short 
time we have been here, we have seen 
so many children utterly disregarding 
the words of their parents that we are 



WE GOME TO THE UNITED STATES 153 

obliged to infer that it is not unusual to 
let children behave that way. 

We have not been here long enough 
to appreciate the good points which there 
may be in such an education. Never- 
theless, although we are full of admira- 
tion for the many fine traits we have 
observed in the citizens of the United 
States, we feel that your ideal of liberty 
is abused when children are allowed to 
do whatever they like. True liberty is 
founded upon obedience to all the prin- 
ciples of truth and love ; and for children 
liberty starts with prompt obedience to 
the wishes of their parents, in which they 
should find these ideals of truth and love 
fulfilled. 



THE END 



U. S. SERVICE SERIES 

By FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER 

Illustrations from photographs taken in work for U. S. Government 
Large 12nio Cloth $1.50 per volume 

"There are no better books for boys than Francis Rolt-Wheeler's 
* U. S. Service Series.' " — Chicago Record-Herald. 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY 

HPHIS story describes the thrilling advent* 
* ures of members of the U. S. Geological 
Survey, graphically woven into a stirring 
narrative that both pleases and instructs. The 
author enjoys an intimate acquaintance with 
the chiefs of the various bureaus in Washing- 
ton, and is able to obtain at first hand the 
material for his books. 

,€ There is abundant charm and vigor in the 
narrative which is sure to please the boy readers 
and will do much toward stimulating their patriot, 
ism by making them alive to the needs of conser- 
vation of the vast resources of their country."— 
Chicago News. 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS 

THE life of a typical boy is followed in all its adventurous detail — the 
mighty representative of our country's government, though young in 
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this handsome book is one to be instantly appreciated. 

" It is a fascinating romance of real life in our country, and will prove a great 
pleasure and inspiration to the boys who read it."— The Continent t Chicago. 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. CENSUS 

THROUGH the experiences of a bright American boy, the author shows 
how the necessary information is gathered. The securing of this of- 
ten involves hardship and peril, requiring journeys by dog-team in the 
frozen North and by launch in the alligator-filled Everglades of Florida, 
while the enumerator whose work lies among the dangerous criminal 
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•' Every young man should read this story from cover to cover, thereby getting 
a clear conception of conditions as they exist to-day, for such knowledge will have 
a clean, invigorating and healthy influence on the young growing and thinking 
mind." — Boston Globe. 

For sale by all booksellers or seat postpaid on receipt of 
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U. S. SERVICE SERIES 

By FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER 

Many illustrations from photographs taken in work for U.S. Government 
Large 12mo Cioth $1.50 per volume 

4< There are no better books for boys than Francis Rolt- Wheeler's • U. S. 
Service Series/ " — Chicago Record- Herald* 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES 

WITH a bright, active American youth as 
a hero, is told the story of the Fisheries, 
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c * One of the best books forboys of all ages, so 
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the reader into staying- up until all hours to finish 
it," — Philadelphia Despatch, 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. INDIANS 

THIS book tells all about the Indian as he 
really was and is; the Menominee in his 
birch-bark canoe; the Iroquois in his wigwam in 
the forest; the Sioux of the plains upon his war- 
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With a typical bright American youth as a central 
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Sam." 

•• An exceedingly interesting" Indian story, because it is true, and not merely 
a dramatic and picturesque incident of Indian life," — JV. Y. Times. 

M It tells the Indian's story in a way that will fascinate the Youngster."— 
Rochester Herald. 

For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt 
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FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER 





JlJoy W a Qommm 
Sears Mm 

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F l will at once be understood lihat the 
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in his youth, but it cannot be understood 
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and read. The splendid pictures of George 
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juveniles. 

M Not a boy lives who will not enjoy this book thoroughly. There is a good 
deal of first-class historical information woven into the story, but the best part of it 
is the splendid impression of times and manners it gives in old England a thousand 
years ago."— Louisville Courier. Journal* 

«• Mrs. Comstock writes very appreciatively of Little Alfred, who wa« after 
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getner well. The illustrations for this volume «xe especially beautiful." — Boston 
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De Story of Joan of Arc boys « ** 

By KAte E. Carpenter Illustrated by 
&my Brooks, also from paintings, and 
with map Large i2mo Cloth $1.00 

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14 The style of the book for simplicity and clearness 
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The Scarlet Patch 

The Story of a Patriot Boy in the Mohawk Valley 

By Mary E. Q. Brush Illustrated by George W. Picknell $1.25 
ar THHE Scarlet Patch'* was the badge of a Tory organization, and a 
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Stories of Brave Old Times 

Some Pen Pictures of Scenes Which 

Took Place Previous to, or Connected 

With, the American Revolution 

By Helen M. Cleveland Profusely illustra- 
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'• It can unqualifiedly be commended as a book for 
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JOHN AND BETTY'S ENGLISH 
HISTORY VISIT 

By MARGARET WILLIAHSON 

Illustrated from photographs Net $ 1.25 ; Postpaid, $ 1.37 

A BROTHER and sister are sent to England to 
be shown the leading places of historic 
interest in company with an English brother and 
sister of their own ages, and under the wise and 
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charms the heart, and next to an actual visit, we recom- 
mend the reading of this delightful volume by the old as well as the young." 
— Universalist Leader. 

JOHN AND BETTY'S SCOTCH 
HISTORY VISIT 

By MARGARET WILLIAMSON 

Fully illustrated from photographs Net $ 1.25 ; Postpaid, $ 1.37 

MRS. PITT, the excellent mother of John and 
Betty's companions, continues as " guide, 
philosopher, and friend," and a very pleasant 
companion as well. They begin in London by 
seeing the Coronation of George V. and Queen 
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to revel in its wealth of natural beauty and 
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ST. DUNSTAN SERIES 

By WARREN L. ELDRED 

Illustrated Large 12mo Cloth $1.50 each 



THE CRiriSON RAHBLERS 

UTVE close friends in the freshman class at St. Dunstan's school, and a 
* teacher of the best sort, plan for a summer vacation in camp in Maine. 
They adopt the name which gives the title to the book, and having gone 
to Boston by water, complete their journey on foot, with plenty of adven- 
tures along the way. 

CAriP ST. DUNSTAN 

ATYPICAL summer camp for boys, with all its interesting routine, is 
described in connection with the story. Interesting new characters 
are introduced, a mystery develops, and every element of a good boy's 
story is present. 

CLASSROOM AND CAHPUS 

A GROUP of likely lads entering upon the second year at " St. Dun- 
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and these active, vigorous boys work wonders in school sentiment. 

ST. DUNSTAN BOY SCOUTS 

THERE are no better stories for boys than 
the really clean tales of school life, and 
the boys of the school called u St. Dunstan" 
in this series are types of the best sort of Amer- 
ican youth, good fellows and good students, in 
most cases, but not too good. They become 
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organize a company at the school. There is 
work for them of a mysterious and puzzling na- 
ture, and they acquit themselves well. In con- 
clusion, they have a very enjoyable week's 
"hike." 

" Here is a thoroughly wholesome book for bo)^s, 
filled with boy life from cover to cover. " 

— Bcltimore Sun. 




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